Bubbly
by brit02
Summary: Sometime life boils down to those moments that leave you feeling bubbly inside...a series of one shots around Sandry and Briar. Set in modern times...fluffy!
1. Haven't Met You Yet

So I have decided to do a series of one-shots with my favorite couple- Sandry and Briar!! 3 3 It's all going to be set in modern day times, and will vary from chapter to chapter, k?? But it will all be Sandry/Briar related, mostly romantic (kinda sorta)

The chapters will be based on the songs/ bumper stickers/ random thoughts that inspired them.

For the first and last time: I don't own the Circle of Magic Series or any songs. You will not see this disclaimer any more, so please, _please, _don't sue me!

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**-Haven't Met You Yet-**

It was a normal summer day: you know, hot and with sun beating on my bare arms, making me wish that I was inside…or in a pool…or hell, anywhere but the side of a road waiting for a bus.

That was when I first saw her.

She was at the intersection, the indicator on her car showing that she would be passing along the street I was standing by. I had to keep in the laugh that was about to burst from my lips. She was singing at the tops of her lungs- or I assume the tops of her lungs, her windows were up- and shaking her head, sending her long and wavy brown hair flying in all directions, and laughing. What was hilarious was that she was _alone _in the car. Usually I would see a gaggle of girls dancing and singing in their car, having a good time. But this girl…she was different. She was alone in the car making a fool of herself, and she didn't seem to care.

She seemed to feel my eyes on her, and her gaze traveled to meet mine. I smirked at her, letting her know that _yes, I am laughing at you_, and her blue eyes narrowed to slits. When she got the green light, she immediately turned onto the street I was standing on and pulled up in front of me. A black car behind her honked his horn when she did that idiotic move- seriously, she could have gotten into an accident- but she ignored him as she hastily parked her SUV and jumped out to confront me. The song 'Haven't Met You Yet' by Michael Buble blasted out of the car, and I raised my eyebrows at the song.

She stalked up to me and jammed a finger into my face. "What are you laughing at, buster?" She demanded, her blue eyes were determined and sending off sparks in my direction, but I kept my demeanor nonchalant. No need to make her think _I _was afraid of her 5 foot 3 inch self.

Even though I was amazed she even bothered pick a fight with me about such a trivial thing.

"You." I answered, staring her down, but she never flinched or backed down. I hate to say it, but I was impressed. Not many people could keep eye contact with me for very long; girls because they would start to blush and giggle, and guys because I was so dang intimidating when I wanted to be. I gave her my best smile, which would send girls melting into puddles but her eyes narrowed further.

"Don't try that on me!" She yelled, stomping her foot.

"Try what?" I asked innocently, keeping the smile in place.

"You know what." She snapped. She rolled her eyes when my smile broadened. "You know, give me a smile that would send me swooning. I'm warning you, I don't fall for those tricks."

"Then I should maybe try some new ones." I was thoroughly enjoying this. Not everyday do I get the chance to flirt with such a cute girl, especially one who kept rejecting my attempts.

A smile twitched on the side of her mouth, and my smile turned triumphant. She saw the triumph in my grey-green eyes and she fought to keep the smile off her face, but I could tell she was succumbing to my charm. I jerked my head in the direction of her car and asked offhandedly, "Michael Buble? Nice."

She nodded and looked at her car, which was still playing the song she was singing. She blushed a little, and that flash of color on her cheeks made her seem, I don't know, more _innocent _somehow. "Yeah, I really like that song. Honestly though, I didn't know it was by him. Heck, I've never even heard of him before."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Seriously? So you just decided to listen and dance to his song _without even knowing who it was by?" _I laughed and her cheeks got redder.

"Well, yeah." She mumbled. She glanced at her car again anxiously, and seemed agitated. "I, uh, have to go." I raised an eyebrow inquisitively, and she continued. "Yeah I agreed to meet my friend Daja at the movies and now I think I might be late." She admitted.

"Sure, sure." I didn't let my tone imply what I was really feeling: that I would remain here even after she had left, thinking about her. She intrigued me, and I had no idea _why. _She spun around but before she hopped into her car, I stopped her with a hand on her wrist. She glared at my hand then at me and I shrugged my shoulder, not really regretting grabbing her hand so rudely. "Hey, you can't expect to leave without me knowing your name." I grinned. "After all, you did come and accost me. I think I deserve _some_thing for not calling the cops on a crazy girl."

She smiled, and my breath caught in my throat. She had such a gorgeous smile, and it made her blue eyes sparkle. "Sandry."

I snorted, thinking she was giving me a false name but then I realized she was serious. "Well, that's an interesting name." I choked out, trying to cover my chuckle, but instead of getting offended like I thought she would she just brushed it off.

"Nah, I think it's a weird name too. And that's just a nickname. You should hear my _real _name."

I grinned. "Let me hear it then."

Her blue eyes sparkled and she flicked her brown hair over her shoulder. "Maybe next time we meet." Hope rose in my chest.

"Until next time then."

"Until then…?"

I realized I never gave her my name. "Briar Moss." She stared at me in amazement and a startled laugh escaped from her lips. I shrugged again. She wasn't the only one with an odd name.

"I like you, Briar Moss." She stated bluntly, a smile gracing her beautiful lips. She reached across to her glove compartment and pulled out a Sharpie marker. Taking the hand that still held hers, she scribbled down a number on the upside of my wrist. Releasing my hand, she closed the door and rolled down her windows. "Call me." She said, her blue eyes smoldering. Then she pulled away from the curb, leaving _me _speechless. I shook my head. Usually I was the one to leave girls gasping for air, but she turned the tables on me.

I spun around and stuck my hands into my pockets, and started to whistle 'Haven't Met You Yet.' I glanced at the number she gave me- 555-1905- and thought, _maybe I have found you._

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So yeah, I hope you liked it :) You know what to do- press that beautiful green button down there and review!! P.s. the last four digits in Sandry's number is my birthday **wink wink** haha

Any comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	2. Prom

So I have gotten an alright-ish response to my first one shot, but I think this idea may be a bit too foreign for some people…not only am I doing an inter-circle relationship, I am also doing it in modern day times. But still, I would really like at least _one _review! Please?? *puppy dog eyes*

So here is my second installment of 'Bubbly'…hope you like!!

And please, *gets down on hands and knees* review!!

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**-Prom- **

Briar looked up from the pile of leaves and weeds he was working on when he heard the porch door slam open. Grinning, he leaned against the rake he had in his hand and watched casually as Sandry walked up to him, her white sundress and sun-streaked brown hair blowing in the wind. She gripped the edge of her dress, preventing it from flying up. Seeing his eyes on her, Sandry smiled at Briar, her blue eyes lighting up and Briar could feel his insides warming.

Briar spent a surprising amount of time with Sandry, which was odd. She was so unlike all the others in her group, usually retreating from the little political parties her uncle held to come into the garden and just talk with him. Soon they became friends, and every time Briar was outside working, Sandry would always come outside to talk or read a book, simply enjoying their shared camaraderie. Briar had to wonder if she felt anything more than friendship towards him, because _he _certainly did.

She was soon followed by a man around her age, his red hair shining in the sun. Briar suppressed a sigh; of all of Sandry's prissy friends, he thought Fin was the worst.

"Sandry, this is a mistake!" The red head shouted after her, quickening his pace to match hers. Lowering his voice, he continued, "Your uncle would never approve."

Sandry ignored Fin, walking in a determined manner to her uncle's best -and most handsome- gardener. Her face broke out into a smile when she saw he was waiting for her, nonchalantly leaning against his rake with a smile that did wonders to her heart rate. Fin followed warily, ready to stop her if he thought she was getting into something socially despicable.

"Sandry, what brings you out here on such a hot day?" Briar's voice had a slight drawl, and his grey-green eyes held a bit too much warmth towards Sandry for Fin's liking. He scowled at the older boy, but Briar ignored him, keeping all his attention on the blue-eyed beauty in front of him.

Not known for her tact, Sandry stared at him boldly, fixing his eyes with her own. Briar could physically feel the pull her eyes had on him, and he found himself taking a step forward so that they were closer together. Sandry tilted her head a little so that they could maintain eye contact before asking her question. "Would you go prom with me?"

"Sandry!" Protested Fin, and Briar wanted to punch him for interrupting. Fin grabbed Sandry's arm roughly, and Briar's hands tightened on the handle of the rake, but he did nothing. In the world of pearls, diamonds and old money-the world to which both Sandry and Fin belonged- a simple punch in the face would mean that he, the lowly gardener, could never work again. Fin never loosened his grip on Sandry's forearm as he dragged her out of the garden and onto the porch, far enough that Briar couldn't hear them talking any more. However, his eyes never wandered from the scene unfolding in front of him.

Sandry yanked her arm from Fin's grip and fixed him in an icy blue stare. "What the hell Fin?" She demanded, flicking a stray hair behind her ear and crossing her arms across her chest.

"When you said you were going to ask that gardener to go with you to prom, I didn't believe you could do it. So now that you have had your little bout of rebelliousness, could you _please _stop this foolishness and go with someone...else?"

Sandry scowled at him. "No."

"Sandry!"

"I want to take him to prom, and no one else. Deal with it." She replied stubbornly.

Fin groaned in exasperation. "Could you go with someone more acceptable?"

"What the heck do you mean?"

"Like Jak! He's head over heels for you, he'll gladly go with you. Plus Berenene approves."

"Of course my cousin approves; he's her ex and he still drools over her. But it doesn't matter, because he doesn't like me." She added smugly. Fin pulled a face.

"I don't understand what he sees in Tris. She's such a bitch, and I swear she never shows any emotion at all. She always has her head in a book- such a bore!" Sandry's small hands curled into fists, but Fin didn't notice her rising anger.

"And do you see what she wears? Good _God,_ it looks like she picks out the cheapest things from a bargain rack! And it's a wonder she even finds anything to fit her! She's so big, but she barely eats!" Fin's rant was interrupted by a fist hitting him solidly on his face. He felt his skin open up from where Sandry's ring grazed against his cheek, and he stared at her in shock.

"Get out." Her voice was cold, but they didn't show the same amount of venom her eyes did. Fin nodded numbly; how could he have forgotten that Tris was one of Sandry's best friends?

Sandry's eyes were trained on Fin's retreating back, boring holes into his neat blue polo. He paused before opening the porch door and looked at her, his eyes solemn.

"You could have asked me." His eyes betrayed the feeling behind those five words, but Sandry could care less.

"I thought about it, you know. But I didn't want to take such a selfish prick to prom with me. It's bad enough that I have to deal with you out of respect for my cousin without you insulting me and my friends. Get out of my house, and don't ever speak to me again." Fin nodded, and slid the porch door open silently.

Sandry took a shuddering breath and released it with a laugh. She had wanted to do that for so long, and only now at the end of senior year was she able to call Fin on his bull. It felt so..._liberating._ She glanced over at Briar, and was pleased to notice his grey-green eyes were trained on her. His face was inscrutable, and Sandry sent him a smile. She made her way over to him sheepishly, worried at what he may think of her unladylike actions. She had no doubt in her mind that he had just seen everything.

"So, hey." She said lamely, and she wanted to slap herself on the forehead.

"Hey. Nice right hook." He replied nonchalantly. She blushed, flattered.

"Thanks. So, um, what's your answer?"

His eyes betrayed his confusion, but they cleared after he realized she was talking about prom. He looked at her gravely. "Answer me truthfully, and then I'll give you my answer."

She nodded in assent.

"Are you just asking me to get a rise out of your uncle, or because you feel like being rebellious?"

Sandry scoffed. "If I wanted to be rebellious, I'll dye my hair blue or something. Uncle approves of you- he can't stop singing his praises of you. He says you're the best gardener from Rosethorn's company." Briar flushed at the praise; it was hard to please Sandry's uncle.

"So why are you asking me?"

Sandry cocked her head to the side and twirled a strand of her long hair with her finger. Briar wanted to grin; she looked so dang cute when she did that, but he stopped himself just in time. It was a serious question, and by grinning Sandry might think he was brushing it off as a trivial matter.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Briar gave her a confused look, but realization dawned on him as slowly as it takes flowers to bloom after winter. But he wanted her to say it.

She sighed in exasperation, and took a step toward him so that they were almost flush against each other. She tilted her face to his, and he leaned his head down so her breath mingled with his. Before allowing their lips to touch, however, Briar repeated the question quietly. "Why me?"

"Because you drive me crazy." She answered, before crushing his lips with hers. Briar rested his hands on her waist and pulled her closer, and she wrapped her hands behind his head. Her hands trailed through his hair, and Briar growled into her mouth.

"Boy!"

Briar flinched and pulled away from Sandry's warm lips regretfully. Sandry's face was flushed pink, and her lips were slightly swollen. Briar grinned at her before turning to the owner of the voice. Adopting an innocent expression, Briar raised his eyes to the two people on the porch. "Yes Rosethorn?"

"You don't come here to flirt with the employer's niece! You're here to work!"

Snapping a mock salute, Briar gave the shorter woman a grin and a bow to the bemused man next to her.

Sandry gripped Briar's elbow as she went onto her tip toes to give him a small kiss on the cheek. She then turned to the man and greeted him. "Hi uncle." Her voice was strong and steady- not at all as if she just got caught in a make out session in broad daylight.

Sandry's uncle didn't look angry or even surprised that his niece was just shamelessly throwing herself at the hired help, and Briar had to wonder if the older man knew that this was going to happen eventually.

"Good afternoon Sandry." His gaze shifted from his niece to Briar, and Briar almost gulped. Still addressing Sandry, he continued, "I expect you to formally introduce your prom date to me tonight, at dinner." It was not a request but an order, one that neither Sandry nor Briar wanted to refuse. Seeing he was understood, he nodded and walked into the mansion. _How did he know, though? _Briar shook his head in amazement- Sandry's uncle knew _every_thing that happened in his household. Briar noticed Rosethorn was still scowling at him, and he winced. He knew he was in major trouble, but looking at Sandry, he knew it was worth it.

She felt his gaze on her, and her blue eyes met his grey-green ones. She interlaced their fingers, and Briar pulled her hand up to his face. His eyes never left hers as he placed a chaste kiss on each bruised knuckle from punching Fin.

"Boy!" Roared Rosethorn, and Briar grimaced.

"Gotta work." Sandry nodded, and looked at Rosethorn fearfully.

"She scares me." She confided.

Briar chuckled. "Me too." He whispered. He gave her a kiss on her cheek, and mumbled, "I'll see you later tonight then."

Sandry nodded, and skipped back to the house. She couldn't wait.

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Remember- these are _one-_shots. Unless I say so, they are totally independent of each other. And I don't like Fin, so any Fin-fans out there, you were warned!

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please??

;]


	3. Bullied

Hallo again :) so I have a lil trouble with naming this chappie, please tell me if u have any better ideas :D

As in, review and leave a new name ;]

Oh also please vote on the pairing you might want to see next chapter:

Briar/Sandry

Briar/Berenene

Briar/Caidy

Sandry/Shan

Sandry/Jak

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So everyone knows the oh-so-typical story of the innocent girl falling for the bad boy of the school.

I'm sure you never heard of _my_ version of that story.

I'm the innocent girl, Briar is the bad boy. And oh _boy _is he bad- as in regular to detention, in a fight almost every week, leather jacket, black clothes, the whole shebang. The catch? He's also a bully. And he and his friends have one favorite person to bully: me.

How stupid could I be? Daily he torments me, makes my life a living hell. And yet I am still in love with him. It's just so twisted. I think I need to go to a psychiatrist or something.

I sighed heavily as I sat on my normal lunch table. My two sisters were already there- not like you could tell we were sisters. Daja is heavy set, her skin the color of chocolate. Tris is fair skinned with red hair and glasses perched on her straight nose. I have brown, sun-streaked hair, with blue eyes hidden behind glasses and braces. We were all adopted by our foster mothers- and yes, I did say mothers. We were the outcasts of our _very _Catholic school because not only are we adopted, but our mothers are lesbians. And it seems as if Daja is too, though she doesn't flaunt it.

"Briar again?" Asked Tris, her stormy grey eyes focused on a wet spot on my shirt where Briar sloshed his juice all over me. Again. I nodded glumly.

Daja cracked her knuckles and made a menacing face. She was built like a female blacksmith, her arms and legs pure muscle. "I'll beat that _kaq_!" She cried, using the word of her native tongue to insult Briar. I shook my head vigorously, hating to see Briar and Daja in a fight, because honestly I don't know who would win.

"No it's ok, I bumped into him. It's totally my fault." I said quickly, and Daja shot me a glare.

"You really have to get over him, _saati_. I don't even know what you see in him."

"Yeah, his friends call him Roach. _Roach_!" Piped up Tris from behind her book, her disgust evident in her tone. I looked at the title and almost groaned- it was a text on astrophysics, university level. It was her second time reading through it, and she's only sixteen!

I groaned, and put my head in my hands. It was an old argument, and I had no defense. I liked him, end of story. I think it may be that his green eyes got a bit of a spark when he sees me, or that when his friends insist on taking the prank further he stops them, or how he never seems to be as mean as the other guys, and sometimes he would just let me walk by...

He had a gentle side, and I knew it, though it was no use telling that to my sisters. So I kept quiet and took their verbal abuse about Briar and my own stupidity in silence. When it seemed as if they had finished, I looked up and glanced around the cafeteria, taking a bite of my apple. I froze when my blue gaze met with a familiar green one. My heart stuttered in my chest as his eyes crinkled at the corners and the corners of his lips turned upwards into a smile. It wasn't his usual sneer, it was a smile. _A smile_. Before I could smile in return, he turned away from me to answer his friend's question. I looked down to my lap, my cheeks burning red. He had just made my week. No prank he and his friends could pull on me now could bring down my jubilant mood.

Or so I thought.

An ice cold substance poured freely down my back, and I yelped in surprise. I spun around to see Shan, Briar's best friend, holding an blue Icee slushie in his hand and a triumphant grin on his face. Briar was standing behind him and he refused to meet my eyes. Daja shoved her chair away from the table, her hands curled into fists.

"Why you-!"

"Oh isn't it our resident lesbian." Drawled Shan, effectively cutting her off. Daja froze, and I could literally feel her hate emanating off of her in heat waves. Tris slowly rose, her book forgotten. Before anything could happen, I grabbed my sisters' hands and forcibly dragged them away from the cafeteria, fighting tears of shame.

**-x-**

"Ohmygosh Sandry, you've grown!" Shrieked my foster mother Lark, enveloping me in a hug. I relaxed into her embrace, breathing in her familiar scent. I had missed her so much these past two months.

A long lost great-uncle from my father's side had found me last year, the year of the slushie incident. I spent the last summer with him, and got a whole makeover. My braces were off, I got contacts and a whole wardrobe of designer clothes for myself and my sisters. My uncle was _loaded_.

When I strutted into school on the first day of school, everyone's heads turned. I heard many people whispering about the 'new girl' and I grinned. It was only when they realized who were at my sides did they finally recognized me. Even though Tris and Daja were also wearing their new clothes, I had gone from being the geeky loner to a more confident girl in a period of two months. My school mates couldn't believe it. I had even grown a couple inches!

It was only when I walked past a familiar boy did I feel my new found self confidence take a hit. "Nice look Sandry," He drawled. I made myself look him in his green eyes, which, admittedly, still made my knees go weak. He was dressed in his trademark leather jacket but instead of a black shirt, he wore a deep green one. I raised an eyebrow and gave him the most disdainful look I could muster. I refused to be bullied and intimidated this year. A slow smile spread across his face at my deferential attitude, and my heartbeat quickened. _Damn! I was falling for him again!_

Before I could embarrass myself, the school bell rang and I walked smoothly to my class, feeling a certain boy's eyes on my back the whole time. It took all my self-restraint to not turn around and look at him. I was over him, and that was that. No more bullying or falling for the bad boy for me again.

**-x-**

It was strange, getting used to my new image. Suddenly everyone wanted to be the friend of the politician Vendris' niece. My newfound popularity spread to my sisters as well, and we were constantly surrounding by a group of girls and boys alike. Tris hated the attention and spent even more time in the library. Daja was happy, because one of me new friends was her...ah...lover, for lack of a better word. Unlike Daja, Rizu was very secretive about her preference.

What I had the most trouble adjusting to was the increased attention I received from the males in my school. At first, it was a large group of them- including Briar's best friend, Shan- but eventually it thinned out to only two. Fin and Jak were nice enough, but they weren't a green-eyed bad boy who still hasn't talked to me since the first day of school.

Briar's lack of interest in me irked me more than it should. I'm over him, so why did my heart still race when I walked past him? Why did I want him to notice me so bad I had a constant ache in my stomach? Why?

**-x-**

"Sandry, you look absolutely gorgeous!" Berenene, one of my new friends, looked at my outfit for my birthday party in appreciation. It was a short blue dress that brought out my eyes. I left my hair out and put on the most minimal amount of make-up on. Even though it was my eighteenth party, I didn't want to dress up too much. A pair of modest heels finished off my outfit.

"Not as lovely s you do." I said ruefully. Berenene was a natural beauty, and even when she was in her sweats and t-shirt she looked amazing, never mind what she was wearing tonight. She was wearing a pink sequined mini-skirt and a strapless white top, showing off her bronzed skin. Bright pink necklaces were looped around her neck and pink earrings hung from her ears. She was wearing white ballet flats, but yet she was still a little taller than me.

She shrugged her shoulders. She knew she was beautiful. Daja entered my room dressed in her black dress pants and red shirt, Rizu following.

"C'mon Sandry, everyone's waiting!" I took a deep breath and looked at Daja for reassurance. Our whole year group was invited, and it seemed as it everyone had come. Including Briar.

As soon as I descended the stairs, I was immediately escorted by Jak and Fin. I quickly scanned the crowd and was dismayed when I didn't immediately see Briar, but I shoved my disappointment away and just enjoyed the night.

I'm not exactly sure- I suspect Berenene- but somehow people got a hold of beers. Soon mostly everyone was inebriated. I was bit tipsy myself, so I didn't put up much of a fight when Fin dragged me into a dark corner. It was only as he was lowering his lips to mine that I regained my senses.

Placing my hands in his chest, I gently pushed him away. "No Fin, not now."

He continued to lean towards me, his breath stinking of alcohol. "Why not?"

"Just...because." I answered weakly. He gripped my hands in his and pulled them away from his chest. He pressed his lips against mine and I froze. When I didn't respond he growled and pulled away.

"Would you prefer Jak then?" He demanded angrily. I shrank a little from his tone, but my eyes were steely when I answered him.

"No, I just don't want _you_."

He scoffed but never released my hands. "Oh you're rich. So you freely flirt with Jak and I and never even intend to give anything? Well I think I deserve _some_thing."

He once again pressed his lips against mine and I struggled against his grasp.

"I don't think the lady appreciates being manhandled." A cold voice came from behind Fin, and my heart leapt in my chest. Fin growled and spun around.

"Shove off, Moss. This has nothing to do with you."

Briar shrugged and put his hands into his pockets as he sauntered towards us. "Sure, it has nothing to do with me until she starts to protest. Then it has _everything_ to do with me. I can't stand by and watch a girl get forced into doing she doesn't want to do."

"Oh, and this is coming from the guy who would always torment her?"

Briar shrugged again. "Can't say I had a choice. Now if you don't back off right now, I won't have a choice but to get you off of her." His eyes turned dangerous and I shivered in fear. He was serious.

Fin seemed to sense that if he were to fight Briar, he would lose. He backed off and sent me a glare. I glared right back, and was gratified when he looked away first. As soon as he left I looked at my savior, but Briar was walking away back to the cars.

"Hey wait!" I ran behind him. He turned around but he made no move to stop.

When I had finally caught up to him I grabbed his sleeve. "Hey."

"Hey." He answered warily, still walking.

"I, um, wanted to thank you. For helping me."

He shrugged and continued walking. "I guess you could think of it as an apology for all those years I bullied you."

"You mentioned you had no choice. What did you mean?"

He finally stopped but he didn't look me in the eye. "I meant what I said. I had no choice." His voice became rushed, almost as if he wanted to get everything out quickly. "Shan always liked to bully you, and when he figured out that I liked you it just got worse and he always forced me to either do the pranks or watch…"

"Wait, you liked me?" I interrupted.

He looked away. "It doesn't matter." I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me.

"You liked me?" I repeated, refusing to let him go. He finally met my eyes and hie green eyes smoldered. Before I could register what he was going to do, he pressed his lips against mine. His kiss wasn't forced and harsh like Fin's; it was gentler, questioning. I let my hand travel to the nape of his neck and pulled myself closer to him so that we were flush against each other. He wrapped his arms around my waist and it seemed as if he never wanted to let me go.

And I loved that feeling.

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Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	4. Everybody Knows

Hey again :] I was actually writing a one-shot based on _Leap Year _because I love it, but…yeah…that wasn't working out. It was extremely hard to translate the movie into a chapter that was both concise and entertaining, and it proved to be too big of a task for me :(

So here is my next idea, based on the song 'Everybody Knows' by John Legend.

Hope you like!

And please, review!

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**-Everybody Knows-**

Sandry slammed the door to her dorm room and slid down it, tears streaming down her face. She heard Briar's footsteps pound down her hall and stop outside her door and she choked back her sobs.

"Sandry! Sandry, come on! Let me explain!"

"Go away! Leave me alone!" She yelled through the door.

She heard Briar sigh, and she heard him sit on the other side of the door. "Sandry, I still love _you._"

She snorted disbelievingly. "Yeah, that's why you were practically _eating _Caidy's face." He groaned.

"Sandry, she made the first move."

"That doesn't mean you have to continue." She retorted.

"What do you want me to do? In the last few weeks of our relationship, you refused to even _touch_ me. My body responded to her, hell, I'm just so in need of physical intimacy I would kiss Shan." He joked.

"I never touched you because you never even listened to me."

"To hear your gripe about how I was cheating on you with Caidy? You never listened to _me _when I denied it."

"Because it was true!" She shrieked. "And now, barely a _week _after we broke up, you're kissing her like there is no-one else in the room!"

"Did you hear me mention _once _Shan's infatuation with you? Just because Caidy wants me, doesn't mean that I want her." His voice held barely controlled fury, but they have been here before. All their arguments seemed to return to this.

Sandry heard Briar stand up. "I'm not doing this anymore. When you decide to trust me enough, I'll be waiting. I'll always wait for you."

Sandry heard Briar's footsteps recede down the hallways, eerily empty and distant. Sandry felt her heart go with him, and she started to sob even harder. She still loved him, and that couldn't change. Neither could her insecurities.

* * *

So watcha think? Not really fluffy, and not very long. I want it to be angsty and sad and bittersweet…

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	5. Gypsy

-Gypsy-

* * *

This was more inspired by the lines 'I might steal your clothes and wear them if they fit me/Never made agreements' so yeah, tell me what you think :) and yeah, it's the Shakira song, I don't own it, yada yada yada...

* * *

I smiled, liking the way the sun made his skin seem a bit more golden. His face was so peaceful when he was sleeping, and his rumpled black hair made him seem even sexier. I quickly looked away and grabbed my jeans from the night before and slipped them on. I was late for work, and Sandrilene Fa Toren was _never _late. Last night was a wild night involving copious amounts of alcohol and sex (thank God I remembered that part, and I wasn't so inebriated to choose an ugly one like my last one). I shuddered at that last thought. The last guy I slept with thought it was more than casual sex and turned into a _bit _of a stalker. Thank God for friends like Tris and Daja who could be so freaking scary when they want to be. I mean, I could do the whole scary thing if the man didn't think I was _cute _when I was shouting and threatening him. All it took was a good talk with Tris' sharp tongue and Daja's fists, and it was buh-bye sucker! No police involvement needed.

Speaking of my friends, I hope they got home safely. I know Daja would be alright because Rizu hardly ever got drunk, but I was worried about Tris. She slipped away quite early in the party, and I wonder where she went…

I grabbed my hand bag and top from the night before and almost groaned aloud. The top I wore was in no way appropriate for work, being strappy and backless, so I had two choices: call in sick (which isn't so far of a stretch with the hangover I have), or borrow a shirt form the guy. Crap, did I ever learn his name? I searched my memory, and a name slowly surfaced. Briar. I would have to borrow Briar's shirt. Well, at least I was wearing a bra last night. I shrugged and went to his closet, which, like any guy's own, was messy to the point of someone wondering if an explosion went off. I picked through his array of shirts that I could see and pulled out a plain white button down. The heels I wore last night I've worn to work a few times, so I figured they would pass. My hair...well, I guess I could just throw it into a ponytail.

Leaving a note about his borrowed shirt and promising I will return it by tomorrow, I quietly left the high rise apartment. I never heard the soft _plop _when my wallet fell out of my handbag onto the carpet.

While in the elevator, I pulled out my handy make up kit and reapplied my lipstick and eyeliner, forgetting the mascara. I didn't carry around foundation-not like I used it much on my creamy skin-but I did carry blush. After checking myself one last time in the reflection in the elevator mirror and nodding once, pleased with my appearance, I gave myself a mental pat on the back. I had perfected the art of casual sex with no attachments and as little contact as possible. Except for the little blip on my record that was the stalker, I was generally an unattached single, independent woman who was rapidly becoming successful in the fashion industry. Can I hear a hell yeah?

I skated into work just on time, and the first thing I saw on my desk was my mocha coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. I walked out of my office, muffin in one hand, coffee in the other, and gave my secretary and best friend a kiss on the cheek. "You're the best, Tris." Tris was the most organized girl I knew who could be running the whole business if she wanted to without breaking a sweat and raising profits by 150%, but for some odd reason settled to be my secretary. Hell, I wasn't complaining.

"I know." She replied smugly, fixing her rectangular spectacles on her nose and tucking away a strand of red hair. "By the way, Lark wants to talk to you, and Berenene needs you to work on a new dress for her."

"What is it this time, the Oscars?" I joked, taking a bite of my muffin. I almost sighed in happiness as the home made muffin melted in my mouth. "Ohmygosh Tris I think these are your best yet."

"You say that every time, Sandry. And it's for the Golden Globes."

"Okay, I'll make the diva's dress. What does Lark want to see me for?'

Tris shrugged. "Go see and her, then you'll find out."

I rolled my cornflower blue eyes and walked to the boss' office. As the CEO of Winding Circle's Fashion Limited, you would not only have to be efficient, smart and innovative but also totally fashion forward. Lark was all of those things, but in all the things she lacked, her partner, Rosethorn, was more than proficient. Rosethorn was a bit more gruff and rough around the edges, but she got her work done and she was good at what she does-running the business. Lark mostly deals with the fashion part of the business.

So without any surprise I made my way to Lark's office, as I was part of her main fashion design team.

I knocked on her door timidly. "Come in!" Trilled out Lark's voice and I opened the door with slight trepidation. Lark was perched on the edge of her desk, looking at two scraps of nearly identical cloth. She was in her early forties, with golden brown skin (_like Briar's, _I couldn't help but think) and short black hair. She looked up from her subjects of scrutiny, and fixed me in an assessing, if friendly, gaze.

She gave a pointed look at my right hand, which, I realized, still had the muffin. I blushed, but Lark didn't bring it up. Instead, she just simply said, "I'm working on a new line that would target the younger population."

I nodded my head; Lark's designs were mainly focused on her generation of women, ranging from work wear to evening wear. She only rarely designed for people my age, and these she usually gave to me or another designer. Like Berenene, the rising movie star and singer; she had been my first assignment.

"I want it to be hip, colorful, but most importantly, focused on the working women of today. The strong, independent types who go out into the world with their skills and plans to dominate the world. People like you." I was slightly taken aback by her statement, and pride welled in my chest. If Lark holds me in such high regard, I _may _have a chance in starting my own fashion company…

Lark's voice brought me out of my musings. "I want you to design and lead the whole campaign." Her statement stunned me so much I was unable to garner a response.

"M-me?"

Lark's eyes showed her amusement. "Yes, you. You have always been a hard worker, and your designs are radical enough to be popular, but not too radical that it would be shot down right away. Plus, you always handle Berenene's jobs very well. She never complains about your work and seems to be returning to you more and more, despite being a _very _particular customer. Very few people could do that, and even few could do it your age."

I was in shock. I couldn't talk, even if I wanted to. Eventually, I sputtered out, "Thank you! Ohmygosh, thank you so much!" Lark smiled, and jerked her head to the door.

"I believe you have work to do." She reminded me, and I nodded.

"Of course, at once, thank you, thank you!" I said as I backed out of her office. I walked to my own office in a daze.

"What did she want?" Tris' voice interrupted my reverie.

"She gave me my own line." I said, my own voice sounding disbelieving.

Tris' stormy grey eyes widened. "What? That's amazing! Wow!"

"I know! Ohmygosh I have to call Daja!" I ran onto my office, but stopped dialing Daja's number when I heard my cell phone ringing. I looked at the number and frowned when I didn't recognize it.

With trepidation, I answered it. "Hello?"

"It's considered rude if a girl sneaks out on you when you're sleeping and steals a shirt, in most people's books." Came a man's voice, and I blushed as I recognized it.

"Briar? Wher-I mean how did you get my cell?"

"Well, you left your wallet. I just _had _to return it."

I cursed myself mentally. I had hoped to wash his shirt and leave it in his mailbox.

"Where do you want to meet, and when?"

I could just hear the smile in Briar's voice. "Tonight, seven o'clock, at Gorse's Kitchen. It's at the Hub."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the Hub. I'll see you there." I snapped.

"Aren't you a little upset?" Came his mocking tone. I growled and hung up on him. He had just soured my whole day-I had hoped this little affair with him would have been easy. I guess not. I took a deep calming breath and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I started to dial Daja's number to tell her the happy news.

-x-

Six fifty-five found me outside the restaurant called 'Gorse's Kitchen' impatiently checking my watch and the streets for a man I wasn't even sure I would recognize. I held his shirt in a white plastic bag, newly washed and ironed. Never mind the ironing was negated as soon as I folded it and put it into the bag, but hey. A tap on my shoulder had me spinning around to meet the face of the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. He was grinning from ear to ear, the whites of his teeth perfectly off setting the golden brown of his skin. His grey-green eyes were twinkling with amusement, as if he knew a joke you didn't.

"Briar?" I asked, slightly unsure.

His grin grew wider and he nodded. Doing a mock bow, his eyes never leaving mine, he answered, "At your service, Duchess." I had to refrain from giggling-I mean, seriously? Me, giggle? I haven't done that since I was thirteen!

I did allow a smile to cross my face, though.

Coming out of the bow, he offered his arm, which I gladly took. I surreptitiously felt his arm muscles and was _very _pleased. Damn, I have good taste, even when drunk. "Shall we?" He said, gesturing to the entrance of the restaurant with a charming smile that made me want to melt into a puddle of Sandry goo.

"We shall." I answered, allowing myself to be led into the restaurant. Maybe just this once I'll re-evaluate my 'no attachments' rule.

* * *

Heehee hoped you liked it :)

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

R.e.v.i.e.w.

Please?

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	6. All Better

Just a little thing I thought of while babysitting/tutoring :)

Enjoy!

* * *

"Ow!" Yelled the little girl, sucking her now bleeding finger. "That hurt." She glared tearfully at the piece of formerly hidden glass in the mud.

The little boy looked frantically from the well lit house to the girl. "You want me to get someone, Sandry?"

Sandry shook her head, her small braids slapping her face. "Nuh-uh, we'll get in trouble!"

Briar wasn't convinced. He still saw the beginnings of tears in Sandry's azure eyes, and he inched towards her. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" He was convinced it would work; his mom kissed his booboos better all the time.

Without hesitation, Sandry offered her finger to Briar, the tears finally seeping over. Briar regarded the bleeding finger warily; he didn't know what to do! He cautiously lowered his lips to her finger and placed his approximation of a kiss on the digit.

Satisfied, he starightened up. "There!" He announced, a broad smile spreading across his golden brown face. "All better!"

Sandry looked at her finger, an expression of awe on her face. "It doesn't hurt no more Briar!"

Briar smirked. "See, told ya so. You gotta kiss it better!

* * *

Hope you liked it!

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

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	7. The Flight

-The Flight-

* * *

Sandry stumbled onto the plane, already regretting just bringing a carry-on suitcase instead of a _normal _one. However, it was just a five day business trip, where two were consumed by traveling. She just had to go to the fashion conference held in South Africa.

She tugged at the small suitcase. "Cat dirt." She mumbled under breath.

"Ma'am are you ok?" Came a polite voice. With a final wrench on the handle, Sandry spun to face the smiling flight attendant.

"I'm fine, thanks." She replied, rolling the bag behind her. The woman held out a perfectly manicured hand for her boarding pass, and Sandry gave it to her after digging into her huge purse. Pointing down a particular aisle with a polite smile that grated on Sandry's nerves, she said, "Your seat should be on your left."

"67D, 67D, 67D…" She muttered under her breath, searching the ascending numbers, before finally pausing before seat 67D. She then looked at her carry-on, then at the baggage compartment above her head with growing dismay.

"Here, let me help." A male's voice had her whirling around to meet the most beautiful grey-green eyes she has _ever _seen. Her gaze swiftly traveled up to his golden-brown face, dark brown hair, smiling mouth, then down to his shirt, which was tight enough to hint at a fit body but not tight enough to be gay, and jeans that rested on his narrow hips _just so_…

He grunted as he lifted her bag before she could protest. "Did you pack a midget in here?" He joked, his voice light.

"Nope, I packed _two._" She joked back. "I need my personal assistants."

"Personal assistants? I would think you would need three at least."

"Oh, one had to be left home." She replied, waving her hand flippantly, and easy smile on her face. She had hoped that she could ogle some cute guys on her flight, but talking to them? In her daydreams maybe, now reality. It left her slightly light-headed.

He grinned, the flash of white a great contrast to his darker skin. "I'm Briar."

"Sandry." She replied, smiling back.

He lowered her voice, almost as if he was telling her a secret. "Between you and me, you are much better looking than the other person I have to sit next to." He gestured to an overweight man, his mouth hanging open as he slept and the light of his reading light glinting off his bald head. She giggled, until she realized that the man was in the same row as she. So that would mean…

He winked at her as he moved into 67E, next to her seat of 67D. She grinned. Suddenly the next fourteen hours of flight seemed much more enjoyable.

* * *

Ok this was inspired by my own flight to South Africa. I actually wrote this on the flight to South Africa, to go see the semis (Uruguay vs Netherlands) then for my summer vaca ;] it's funny...most people go _to _the Caribbean for summer, and me, a Caribbean national, is going _away _from the sunny, warm, beautiful Caribbean, to South Africa in winter, where it is current 1 degree. _. _

Except, I didn't get to sit next to a cute guy, just stare at him as we walked on….and my sister really that bad looking ;] heehee actually, the seat number is my actual seat number.

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

R.e.v.i.e.w.

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	8. Giving her away

-Giving her away-

* * *

My heart was throbbing in pain. I dry swallowed and loosened the tie around my throat, hoping in vain that it would lessen the heartbreak.

It didn't.

"Hey man, are you ok?" Jak clapped me on my arm and I stumbled. I nodded, mute, but I knew that I looked sick.

Hell, I _felt _sick.

Jak seemed unconvinced, but walked out of the bathroom I had hid myself in. I took a deep breath and placed both hands on either side of the sink. Taking a deep breath for seven counts, holding it for seven, and releasing it for seven, I calmed my heart rate until it was _mostly _normal. I looked at myself in the mirror and winced.

_Fuck, _I looked like I was just chewed out, digested, and vomited out.

I splashed my face with some water and sighed. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the edge of the sink. "Why?" I cried, no longer caring if anyone heard me.

-x-

Sandry and I had grown up in the same orphanage. As we entered when we were around ten years old, too old to be considered 'adoptable', plus with my criminal past, let me just say that no-one really wanted us. So we grew up, and grew closer. So close I considered her my sister, and she thought of me as her own blood.

Then, out of nowhere, a long lost uncle of hers found her when she was seventeen and whisked her away to New York, to glamor and parties and all the things I was not.

Yet she and I remained great friends. When I turned eighteen, she even brought me to New York and allowed me to stay in her apartment with her. Her uncle didn't mind, and he even adopted me after seeing how close we were.

I eventually became accustomed to the higher life, and even accepted. I was allowed to pursue my own interests at my own leisure and I never took it for granted. After living on the street, starving and scraping a living for ten years, the life Duke gave me was not wasted. And I think that may have been a deciding factor when adopting me; he knew I would treasure the life he gave me.

I didn't realize I was in love with Sandry until it was too late.

She started going to Columbia University, a short taxi ride away from our apartment, or a brisk walk (I preferred to walk) when she met Shan.

He was a good enough guy, I guess. Respectable, the type of guy who would hold the door open for her and pull out her chair, ever polite, always fun to be around. Y'know, the perfect guy. He got along with everyone.

I treated him like any other of Sandry's boyfriends, which was my first mistake. He was not like the others. There was something about him that entranced her, made her fall in love with him.

My second mistake was not noticing how hard she was falling for him.

My third? Never telling her I love her.

I maybe realized it when he proposed, and she accepted. There are no words to describe how I felt when she proudly showed me her ring, snuggled closer to Shan and then kissed him in a PG-13 way that spoke _love. _It was the kind of love which didn't need to be expressed by 'huge, sloppy kisses' as we used to call it, but more the kind of love that was expressed in every look, gesture, touch…

It made me sick.

-x-

"Briar?"

Shit. I didn't want her here, not when I was breaking down and _this close _to telling her how I felt. No. I was not in any way opening that door…

I turned the knob of the door and pulled it open, a large smile on my face.

"Hey duchess."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her beautiful, cornflower blue eyes. I couldn't help but drink in her appearance. Her hair was piled on top her head, looking just messy enough to look casual but you could tell it was professionally done by the best hairdressers in New York. Her make-up was impeccably done (what else can you expect from Berenene) and she had a grey sweater across her shoulders, hiding the bodice of her dress. However, the bright white of the skirt was fitted over her hips and flowed down her legs, ending in a train.

I gulped; beautiful was too meek a word to describe her.

I stretched out a hand to stroke a stray hair from her face. Even though it was a familiar gesture, one I've done many times, I'm sure it meant a lot more to me than it did to her.

"What's wrong?"

She looked away from me, then started to fidget.

"Sandry, c'mon tell me."

She looked around frantically, then shoved me into the bathroom, quickly following. She locked the door and as soon as it clicked, she visibly relaxed.

"I think I'm getting cold feet." My heart lifted-now was my chance to convince her Shan wasn't the one for her, she belonged with me…

Unbidden, the memory of her and Shan when she told me about her engagement entered my mind. She looked so happy, so radiant, I knew I couldn't take her happiness away. Even if it killed me.

I fixed her in a stern gaze and placed my hands on her shoulders. "Sandry." My voice was controlled, not revealing any of my feelings. "Sandry, you love him. I know you love him." I think those were the hardest words I ever had to supply, but I knew it would get worse. "I can't allow you to sabotage your joy just because you got _scared._" Her eyes became steely, and I chuckled. "There's the Sandry I know. I'm not giving you away for nothing." Traditionally, Duke should have been the one to give her away on her wedding day as her legal guardian, but she asked if I would. To her, I was more family than he was. God, it was so hard to agree to it.

She took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks. For a moment, she looked like the Sandry I knew and loved; not the Princess of New York, but simply Sandry. She looked so adorable. I touched her nose, one I knew she was very self-conscious about yet still she refused to do plastic surgery (personally I think it's her best feature), and grinned at her. "Now come on, we got a wedding to do."

-x-

I fidgeted while outside the doors to the church. Sandry was taking forever to get here; maybe she got cold feet all over again? I suddenly became nervous. Was she ok? She's always punctual, something must be wrong. Maybe I should check up on her?

I shook my head. No. Sandry was fine, and she'll be here.

A clattering of heels announced her presence, and a knot of tension I wasn't aware was even there, disappeared. I spun around so I faced Shan's best man, Jak. "How do I look?" I asked, feeling foolish in my tux. I couldn't help it; Sandry sent my nerves over the edge. Jak looked at me as if I were crazy, but he still answered.

"You look like shit, man. But then again, it's your face, something we could never fix." I realized he was joking too late, and a nervous laugh escaped my lips. "Relax. You look fine."

Jak's brown eyes were concerned; did he know? Before I could ponder it further, Sandry appeared.

I knew she would look beautiful; no more than beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, radiant, shining, brighter than the sun, but she still took my breath away.

Her wedding dress was strapless and simple, like Sandry wanted. It fit her curves beautifully and made her seem elegant.

She was so beautiful that it hurt.

Her maid-of-honor, Daja, handed her the bouquet, which was simply a white lily. Sandry gripped the stalk tightly, and when she looked at me, her blue eyes were still undecided. I gave her a reassuring smile, and the worry seemed to lessen a bit. I took her hand in mine, and the double doors opened, revealing a filled-to-the brim church and Shan, waiting for his bride.

-x-

Ok, I'll admit it; for the whole ceremony, I had my eyes closed. I just couldn't watch. Jak and Daja asked me a million times if I was ok, and I continued to mutter that I had a stomach flu; I was fine; it wasn't that bad; it'll be ok…

When in reality, it wouldn't.

I only opened my eyes when they were taking their vows.

The priest looked at Sandry first. "Sandrilene fa Toren, do you take Pershan fer Roth as your husband to love and to hold…"

I kept my eyes on her, the priest's voice droning on unintelligibly. My heart was breaking into a million pieces. I always thought heartbreak was extremely overrated, but the way I was feeling now...it was underrated in the stories.

I saw Sandry open her mouth to answer, and I closed my eyes and allowed a single tear trace down my cheek.

* * *

Ohh a heartbreaker :'(

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Please?

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	9. Facebook Official

"He was so hot, Briar you don't _understand…_"

"Because I'm a guy."

Sandry shook her hand dismissively and turned onto her stomach. She perched her head on her hands then shifted and lay her head on her pillow. She gazed at Briar with her cornflower blue eyes, which were currently had a dream-like state to them. "God, and how he _kissed, _and they way he…"

"Please spare me the details!" Cried Briar, taking his hands off the keyboard to her computer to throw his hands in the air in mock distress. She laughed and swung her feet around so she could sit up on her bed, her feet swinging over the edge of her dorm bed. Her roommate was out with her girlfriend, and she had forced Briar to com over to hear her talk about the guy she had made out with last night.

"It's funny, though."

"What is?" His grey-green eyes never left the computer screen as he scrolled through his Facebook notifications.

"He had all these pictures of him and another girl all over his room."

"Girlfriend?"

She cocked her head to the side when she answered, a contemplative frown on her face. "He insisted that she wasn't, but he never told me who she was…"

"What was his name?"

"Pershan fer Roth."

She saw him type in the name in the 'Search' bar, and she jumped off her bed. Leaning over his shoulder, his dark brown hair tickling her face, she looked at the results. "You're seriously Facebook stalking him?"

"Yup. Which one is he?" She pointed to a picture she remembered seeing in his room-one of him and the girl, his arm wrapped effortlessly around her slim shoulders. Not willing to look at his profile herself, she wandered away from her desk.

"She's his girlfriend. Her name's Berenene."

"Are you sure?"

Briar leveled his grey-green eyes at her. "It's Facebook official."

"Damn!"

**haha this actually happened to my friend's roomie, and I loved how they said 'Facebook official'. In this one Briar and Sandry are just friends, btw.**

**Any thoughts? Comments? Like it? Hate it? Love it?**

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**;]**


	10. Post Its

-Yellow Post Its-

* * *

Sandry smiled as she opened her eyes and was greeted by an increasingly familiar sight. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and reached for the yellow post it that lay on the pillow next to hers. The strap of her silky pajama top slid off her shoulder, and she fixed it before reading what it said.

_Sandry-_

She smiled at the way he looped the 'y' in her name, and continued to read it.

_You looked so beautiful in your sleep, and I couldn't wake you. I went for breakfast. You're free to join me._

_Love you, _

_-Briar_

A smile graced Sandry's lips at the note. Briar was an early riser; an old habit he was hard pressed to break, despite being on their honeymoon. Sandry would wake every morning to be greeted, not by a sleeping Briar, but a small yellow post it.

She stretched her arms over her head and heard her joints pop. Rolling her neck to relieve it of any cricks, she groaned and got up, slipping a sweat shirt and a pair of pants and flip flops before making her way to the breakfast room.

She immediately saw Briar; he was staring out at the beautiful beach, a calm look on his face. The Hawaiian sun glinted off his brown hair, highlighting the natural sun-streaks in it he gained from his job. She couldn't see his grey-green eyes properly from where she entered, but she knew they would be contemplative, his thoughts on how to rearrange the plants in the garden so they may better grow.

A strange anticipation grew in the pit of Sandry's stomach, and a grin spread across her face. _Mine. _

She couldn't wait for the day when she would not wake up to the adorable post its, but instead to her husband.

* * *

Yeah, I actually enjoyed writing this one. When I first thought of it, the idea was _totally _different. As in, I had them married already and in their house and she would walk around reading various post its he left for her….but it evolved into this. I thought this may be a lil cuter ;] heehee

Oh, and please review on the ones you love the best :) like if this one made you feel especially 'bubbly' just say so! Reviews make my day a little brighter :D

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	11. The Fall

Ok, I know I totally deserve whatever rocks etc you throw at me. I know, I know, I know. And I know it's no excuse to say that I've been busy with school, the truth is I've been doing so much writing for my classes that I don't feel to write more…so sorry! Christmas hols are here, though, so I'll be updating more :] and I'll also pre-write chapters so I can still update regularly even if I'm not writing :p

* * *

-The Fall-

_Don't tell me you'll write me, don't tell me you'll call_

_Just tell me you'll see me in the fall_

_-'The Fall', Brendan James

* * *

_

I looked around the crowd, searching for a pair of familiar grey-green eyes, golden skin and tousled, black hair. My heart fell with each person that passed me, though I shouldn't have been surprised. It was a quick promise, a promise that realistically couldn't be kept.

Yet, I still found myself here, on the corner where we met three months ago, freezing and blowing air into my hands in an attempt to warm them.

What kind of idiocy did I allow myself to fall into? We were together for two weeks, two blissfully happy weeks when I never felt so alive, and I made him promise before he left that he would meet me here. I looked around again, but was disappointed again. I sighed and shoved my hands deep into my brown coat, burying my face into the cream scarf I had around my neck. I'll wait two more minutes and then I'll leave.

We promised to not get attached to each other. We knew it was temporary; he was there for a vacation and was going to leave eventually, and I was working under one of the top designers of New York. He couldn't stay with me and neither could I leave with him. We knew, yet that didn't stop us from falling for each other. The two weeks we had together were the best weeks of my life, filled with cheesy romantic moments, laughs and a feeling in my chest that if I was more happy, I will burst. The last day he had here we spent it in bed, just talking and trying to get as much of the other before the inevitable departure. We promised to meet again in the fall. We promised not to contact each other during this time. We promised many things that, with hindsight, I know impossible. Long distance relationships don't work. We can pretend that they do, and that's what I've been doing: pretending. He wasn't going to come.

I looked down at my watch and noticed that my allotted two minutes were up. Glancing around again, I reluctantly shoved my hands in my pockets and turned slowly. I know that there was a Starbucks at the end of the block, and I desperately needed a hot chocolate. I refused to let myself think about his eyes, his hands, his smile…

A hand on my shoulder had me whipping around, a quick retort on my tongue for the person who dared touch me, but my voice died in my throat as my eyes locked with a pair of eyes that were burned into my memory. They shone with his smile, and my answering smile was just as huge.

"You came." I whispered.

"You waited." He countered, then his lips were on mine, hungry and demanding and I smiled against his mouth before succumbing to his touch.

* * *

Any thoughts? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

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	12. 11:59

11:59

This one was prompted by the line "She wears a locket with her name/ She's waiting for the right one/ To give it away" in the song '11:59' by Ryan Star.

Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas xD This is my Christmas gift to you!

* * *

She gripped the locket around her neck tighter, and I'm sure her hands were becoming numb in the cold. I wondered why she had forgotten her gloves in below zero weather, but I shrugged it away. She may have been in a rush and forgot or just didn't own gloves.

I blew on my hot cocoa and allowed my eyes to scan the café. This café was my favourite, always full of people and has the best coffee and hot chocolate I ever had. Whenever I had writer's block I will visit this café, order a mocha and people watch. That was when I saw her. She had her honey brown curls that peeked out of her cap and bright blue eyes. Other than the locket around her neck, she didn't have any other jewellery on. What made me notice her was the way she had entered the café and then exited, preferring to stand outside by the seating placed n the sidewalk. Only another couple and myself chose to sit outside on this crisp night, but I always preferred to sit outside than inside when trying to figure out a kink in my story.

She kept looking around, obviously waiting for someone. Soon enough, I saw a man with black hair and light green eyes sneak up behind her and wrap his arms around her. She laughed as she was lifted high into the air, and I couldn't help a smile cross my face at their antics. He was dressed in military gear, so I assumed that he was a new recruit for the Army. Automatically, my mind began to weave a tragic love story of their love and how he parted from her, but before leaving for Iraq he will propose to her. However, he will die a tragic death at the hands of his jealous best friend, who will return and try to marry her. Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed seeing her give the man the locket around her thin neck. I strained my ears to hear their conversation.

"Take this,"

"Sandry, I can't. Your dad gave that to you…it's the last thing you got from him."

"So make sure you return it to me." She flashed him a smile, and he smiled back, taking her tiny gold locket and tucking it into the pocket above his breast. He tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Feeling invasive, I looked away. When I looked back up, they were walking into the café, hand in hand. Her blue eyes met mine for a split second before turning her attention to her boyfriend.

I stood up and smile. I finally had a brilliant idea for my story, thanks to that girl and her locket.

* * *

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	13. The Congo

Ok, keep in mind that I may not be too accurate here. All the information I'm getting here is from 'King Leopold's Ghost' by Adam Hochschild. So…that acts as a disclaimer, kinda sorta. And 'Briar' and 'Sandry' are by no means African names, but for the sake of the story, let's just pretend :)

* * *

Briar stumbled into the small village, half alive from the beating he had received from the _chicotte_. He was bleeding from his bared back and buttocks, no part of his exposed back left unscathed. The white men had forced him to lay down as they mercilessly beat him with the hippo hide, twenty-five lashes in all. Men were known to die from a hundred. Weak from blood loss and barely conscious, he had staggered from the white man's outpost to this village. Before he collapsed, a young girl caught him. The last thing he remembers is her look of worry before he blacked out.

x

He was roughly awoken and sat up quickly. Above him stood a large man, his countenance fearsome. Briar refused to be cowed, and stood as well as he could. His wounds stung and some re-opened, but he ignored the intense pain. He had no-where else to go – his whole village had been taken by the white men and forced to look for the wild rubber vines. He had seen his friends, brothers and father mutilated beyond recognition or killed simply because the bucket of rubber they brought back wasn't sufficient. So, he refused to let this man strike fear in his heart.

The man grunted, satisfied he could stand. "You stay here, you work here." Obviously the white man's influence was heavy here, and Briar was once again forced to do something he thought he was running from: gathering buckets of wild rubber for the white man. When would this oppression end?

x

Briar spent many days in the forests gathering the rubber, sometimes even sleeping in the tress where the rubber vines were found. In desperation to fill the quota, he cut the rubber vines and squeezed as much rubber as he could from them.

Yet, despite his many trips and oppression in the forests and the bleak days in the village, he found one light of hope in his life: the young woman who had caught him when he collapsed.

She was the Chief's only daughter – she had lost her sister to rape by a white officer of the Force Publique, and her younger brother had starved to death. There was hardly any food in the village, as the white men never paid the village enough for the rubber, and as a result many of the old and young died from starvation. Some died when they are taken hostage to force the men of the village to gather rubber. Seeing some people with missing right hands was not uncommon, even on Sandry. Her hand had been taken by a man who had been hunting, but to show that his bullet had killed a person (as the commanders ordered: each bullet had to be accompanied by the right hand of the person that bullet had killed) he had chopped off her hand. The stump of her right hand was the only mar of her beauty. Briar wanted to marry her but the Chief, the fearsome man who had awoken Briar the day after he had found himself in the village, disapproved. So the pair had to appease themselves with a few stolen moments. Their love increased, and they even wanted to run away together. But there was no-where to go. No matter where they went, they will always be seen as inferior to the white inhabitants, and forced to work again. And what of a family? To think of being pregnant and on the run, or even bringing children into this world was inconceivable. So they pined for each other in silence.

x

The change of power from King Leopold to the Belgian State improved the lives of the African people only marginally. However, the wealthy Congo was not free of the forced labour that they had endured during Leopold's reign. In other parts of the world, there was a huge upheaval: World War II had started and ended, increasing the labours of the Congolese and increasing the demand for their metals. Men were sold by their Chiefs to the mines for ten Francs per person. Briar was not an exception.

The Chief, seeing an opportunity to get rid of the men of his village he disliked, jumped at this chance. He sold off Briar and a few other men who opposed his rule to the mines unexpectedly, not even giving Briar and Sandry a chance to say good-bye.

The Chief was grieved to see his only daughter fall into the pits of depression, and even more shocked to see her rounding belly two months later. In an attempt to get Briar back, he went back to the administrator to whom he had sold Briar. He found that the father of his grandson had died after being subjected to the harsh labour of the mines.

Sandry, after giving birth to a still-born, committed suicide a week after.

* * *

Ok, yeah, I know, it's depressing. But the whole book about the crimes against the Congo is depressing, so to have a happy ending would have been kinda idealistic. This leads to my main question: why did the Europeans just assume that they had the right to walk over 'inferior' races?

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	14. Long Live

Ok, so this one is based off of Taylor's new song from her album 'Speak Now'. The song's name is 'Long Live', and reminded me for some reason of Robin Hood, but a modern one, but not really, y'know? Anyhoos, I hope you like the fic and my interpretation of Taylor's song!

* * *

I gripped his hand in mine, and looked up at him. He flashed a bright smile at me, his white teeth a great contrast to his olive toned skin. He held his head proudly, taking off his black baseball cap and holding it in his hand. Today was a special day, a special event. Today we were being treated as royalty instead of the band of thieves we really are.

We stepped out into the sun to the sound of thunderous applause. I brought my hand up to my face to block the sun from shining in my face, and stole a glance at Briar. He had a look of wonder, and for a second I thought I saw a flicker of pure joy. It was quickly replaced by his winning smile, his grey-green eyes warming the hearts of all the girls in the crowd. As soon as we stood in view of the crowd, Briar had dropped my hand and I had the absurd feeling that it suddenly became colder. I placed a smile on my face as I faced the large crowd in front of me, feeling dirty and unworthy of their praise in my ripped jeans, dark vest and battered army jacket. However, living on the run and on our own for as long as I could remember means good clothes are hard to come by.

As I stood and waited for the mayor to come and give us our medals of honour for helping get rid of the corrupt brother of the King, Prince Fin, I started to fidget and my eyes scanned the crowd for anyone who may have hidden a weapon. Call it paranoia, but standing in front of this crowd of people who were baying for our blood countless times in my past made me feel very nervous.

Briar, on the other hand, looked very much at ease. He was accustomed and comfortable being the centre of attention. Me, not so much. I could do if I wished, being raised in a royal household until my parents died when I was ten and I joined Briar's gang, but I could never do it as well as Briar could.

-x-

I was ten again, kicked out my own household for being a brat at my parent's funeral. I was dressed in a frilly white dress, and crying at the edge of the forest to my mansion when he came up to me. He was a little older than I, and dressed in ripped shorts and a dirty t-shirt. Yet his face and bare arms were impeccably clean.

"Hey Duchess, what are you doin' out here?" His tone was condescending, and I immediately stood and glared up at him.

"Cause I want to. Have a problem with that?"

He grinned, a grin I eventually grew to love, and ruffled my hair. "You might just do."

I yanked my head away from his hand and shot him a dark look. "Leave me alone!"

Briar gave me a smirk then whistled through his teeth. A large girl suddenly appeared behind him, melting out of the shadows cast by the large trees. A smaller girl with bright red hair and glasses also appeared, a scowl on her face as she regarded me. I felt very small compared to them, and yet I had this strange desire to be a part of their group. They all seemed to be in sync and close knit, something I have never experienced being the only daughter of the travelling Count and Countess. I never lived in the same place for more than a year, and only rarely did my parents and I returned to our mansion in Emelan.

They spun around to leave, but I grabbed the boy's shirt. "Wait, where are you going? I want to play with you!"

He gave me a bemused look, and the dark girl smiled. The red head gave me a glare, and I looked back at her defiantly. "We don't play games, little girl." She snapped.

I wilted slightly, and released the boy. Nothing seemed to be going right for me today- everyone wanted me gone in my household, I couldn't think about my parents without feeling as if I would be swallowed by a deep well of grief and loss, and now these people won't play with me.

"Tris, stop being so mean."

"I'm not being mean, just realistic. We have a job to do, and this little rich girl is getting in our way. How do you know if we can even do what we need to do now that she's seen us?"

"We don't, but we have been planning this since we found out about the Count and his wife's death."

At the mention of my parents, tears started to stream down my face, gone unnoticed by the two bickering girls. However, the boy noticed and knelt down by me his grey-green eyes concerned. "Hey, don't cry now. We just don't have the time to play."

I shook my head and started to get up from my sitting position. As I did so, a picture that I was holding in my hands of my parents and I fluttered down. I stared down at it and tears started to flow anew. I saw the boy pick it up, but before I could take it from him I ran away from them.

-x-

Bright bulbs went off and I cringed, bringing my hand up to cover my face. The journalists in the crowd were eager to get a picture, any picture, of the famed Circle, and I found myself hiding behind Briar's broad back. Whenever I needed protection, he was always there for me. Even when I was still 'the orphaned child of the useless Count and Countess'.

-x-

I was running again, not towards unsympathetic and fake relatives with their pearls and perfume, but to my parents' bedroom. It still smelled of them, and I buried my face into their pillows and curled myself into a ball. I hated this. I hated not having my crazy, kooky and lively parents with me anymore. I hated being left in the care of a bunch of stuffy relatives who didn't care about me, who thought of me as a burden that my thrifty and bubble-headed parents left for them to deal with. All I wanted to do is leave this place.

A small noise made me jump up in surprise and I found myself looking into the grey-green eyes of the boy from before. He seemed surprised to see me, and one of his legs was swung over the edge of the windowsill while the other was outside, like the majority of his body. My first thought was, _what is he doing here? _And my second was, _how did he climb up to the second floor window?_

It never occurred to me _why. _

He gave me his trademark grin and without missing a beat, as if it were normal for him to be climbing in through windows all the time - which, I later found out, it was - he swung his other leg over the sill and jumped into the room with me.

"Hey, sorry about Tris and Daj' earlier. We didn't know you were Sandrilene."

"Sandry," I automatically corrected. I hated my full name.

"Sandry. I like it. My name's Briar, by the way."

"Charmed." I spat out. I don't know why, but I was angry with him.

His grey green eyes scanned the room, and I noticed that his eyes seemed to alight on all the valuable things in the room.

"What are you doing here?"

He flashed me a bright smile. "Do you want the truth?"

"Yes."

He leaned in closely so his breath tickled my cheek, and whispered, "I'm here to steal your stuff and sell them."

My breath hitched in my throat. "Why?"

"Because there are people out there that are suffering while you and your family live in luxury." His voice held bitterness in it, and I was taken aback. Then his face morphed back into that amicable mask he had on when I first met him. "Oh, don't worry. This isn't for personal gain. It's so we can buy food, clothes, whatever for those in need."

"Yeah right."

He raised an eyebrow. "Fine, don't believe me. But if you try to stop me, well, that's another story." He spun on his heel and started to tuck things, things I have seen in for my whole life, into a burlap bag.

"Wait a second."

He half turned toward me, an eyebrow raised. "Trying to stop me?" His voice was dangerous, and I shivered slightly in fear. But my resolve was stone.

"You want something, and I want something. We can come to an agreement."

"Oh? What can you offer me, Duchess?"

"A list of nobles who are both corrupt and stinkin' rich."

"Don't you think we already know them?"

"Do you know how to safely get in past security? Thought not. I do."

A pause. "What do you want then?"

"I hate it here, I hate these people. There's no one here who can take care of me, and I would rather kill myself than live with any of them anyways. Take me with you."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're used to a life of privilege, of servants, of getting things your way. Living with us would be harder than you think."

"I can handle it."

"I don't think you can."

I drew myself up so I was standing straight. "My parents travelled a lot. I have lived on the road more than in this mansion. I think I can handle it."

"What do you want in return?"

"Just don't take my parents' stuff. Please."

He thought about it, and for a wild second I didn't think that he would take me seriously. Then he slowly nodded his head. I wanted to jump up and down in my joy, but I held myself back.

My life has been changed ever since.

I cannot count the number of raids I have been on, the number of homeless shelters and shacks that I have visited, and the number of people who have given e a toothless smile and said, "Thank you." Every moment has been priceless, and each day I go without showering or without food is worth every smile, every thank you, and every moment more I get to spend with Briar, Tris and Daja. More have joined our cause, but they have come to look at us as the main starters, the ones who started this. The Circle.

-x-

Once again my eyes scanned the crowd, and Briar noticed my uneasiness. Out of all in his gang, he had decided to bring me with him on this day. I knew that Tris and Daja got nervous in front of crowds, and the rest of the gang was dispersed throughout so as to stop any rebellious acts, but I was still nervous. I couldn't help it. I slid out from behind him and stood proudly at my side. I tried not to wince at each snap of a picture being taken, or at the various shouts of the crowd.

While Briar worked the crowd, I continued to scan the crowd. My eyes aren't as sharp as Tris' nor did I have the battle experience of Daja, nor was I as crafty and street-smart as Briar, but I could read people. I could tell what their intention was and if they were lying or not. Not only was I scanning with my eyes but also with my senses. Everyone seemed happy to see the modern Robin Hood rewarded for not only what we have done for the down-trodden but also for helping putting the proper King, Jak, on the throne. Except…

My eyes were drawn to a man in the corner of the plaza. He was plain, with a dark hoodie and jeans on, but there was something…off…about him. As I squinted, I saw him pull something out and point it towards us.

Before I could think of what I was doing, I dove towards Briar and knocked him to the ground. As my body hit his, a resounding _bang! _echoed in the air, and I felt my hair part as the bullet flew past my head. My breath hitched in my throat at my near-hit, but before I could contemplate what had just happened, screams erupted. People were scrambling to get out of the way, pushing women and children aside in their haste to get away from the shooter. I looked up from where I was lying on top of Briar for the shooter and saw him sprinting towards the east entrance of the plaza. Without hesitating, I jumped up and followed him, my arms pumping at my sides. I didn't even register the different people from the Circle trying to organise the panicked crowd, and getting the young children out of the way. There was only me and my quarry.

I heard Briar curse behind me, and knew he would be following. But he didn't have my head start. I was gaining on the shooter and a sudden elation filled me as I realised I was faster than he. Bowing my head, I went even faster. When I finally caught up with the shooter, I started to prepare myself to tackle him. He spun around, and as if I was watching this in slow motion, I saw him point the gun towards me. My breathing stopped, then something hard and fast hit me from the side. I fell to the ground and the person that tackled me tumbled on top of me, rolled and got back up in a standing position. Faster than I thought possible, my tackler jumped the shooter and the sound of the gun being shot was heard.

I screamed and covered my eyes. I heard a crack and the sound of a body hitting the ground. A sob escaped my throat. _No, please no, please don't let it be Briar…_ I opened my eyes slowly and saw an unmoving figure in front of me. I gasped and scrambled backwards until my back hit the wall, my eyes wide and tears streaming down my face. _No!_

"Sandry, Sandry, look at me."

A pair of arms encircled my shoulders, and I was being rocked back and forth. After I had calmed a little, I recognised the voice saying my name. I looked up at Briar with red eyes and collapsed in his arms. "I-I th-thought I had l-lost you." I sobbed, shuddering in his arms. He held me tighter to him.

"Can't get rid of me that easily." He replied, his normally calm voice shaking slightly. Briar never showed fear. When I looked up into his eyes, I saw what I heard in his voice: fear. Before I could react, Briar's mouth was on mine. I froze for a second before responding in kind, our mouths moving in sync.

"Don't do that again." He gasped out when we finally parted, both of us a little breathless. He leaned his forehead against mine, our breath mingling. "You scared the shit outta me. I thought I was going to lose you."

I chuckled. "Can't get rid of me that easily."

He laughed then traced a line of kisses from my cheek to the corner of my lips. Then he caught my lips in his, softer and smoother than his first kiss. I allowed myself to melt into him, my hands tangling in his short-cropped hair. I have never regretted my choice to leave the house of my youth, and Briar was the only reason why.

* * *

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w

please?

;]


	15. Candles

This was inspired by the song "Candles" by Hey Monday. I originally didn't plan to write a Valentine's fic, but meh. Here it is. Happy Valentine's Day everyone out there, or if you're like me, Happy Single Awareness Day :D

* * *

I was spending this Valentine's Day like I normally do: with a couple of my favourite guys. Ben and Jerry. I had finally settled comfortably in my sofa and was watching "Project Runway" when I heard a little fizzle then a small _pop! _and my apartment-no, the whole friggin' city of New York-went black.

Well, _hell. _

I calmed my breathing first. Ok, so I couldn't see shit, so what? It's not like I didn't know where all the things in my apartment were, right? And it's not like I was the heroine in some idiotic horror movie. But still, I couldn't calm my breathing enough to calm down and find the blasted candles and matches and oh fuck, why did it have to be so dark? Ok, ok, ok, the lights should be back soon. They should. They better.

A small whimper escaped my mouth and I gasped, bringing my hands to my face. I was mildly surprised that my face was wet, but I was just trying so fucking hard to keep it together that I really don't give a shit if I'm crying. I just want to get out, and get to some source of light.

I was so into my panic attack that I didn't hear someone come in or call my name. I was only aware of their presence when they touched my shoulder and I gave a blood-curdling scream, scrambling away from the mysterious person and falling onto the floor when I ran out of sofa.

"Fuck, Sandry, it's _me. _Briar? Your really hot and generous and totally awesome neighbour?"

I gulped a couple mouthfuls of air and nodded my head, then realised that he can't see me. "Um, ok. What do you want?"

"First off, are you ok?" His tone of concern threw me, because Briar really didn't give a crap about me unless he was looking for something.

"Yeah, fine, fine." I brushed my hair away from my face but I was still searching for a sign of light. I stood and brushed off my pants. "What do you want?" My voice was still shaking.

"Candles. I have none…are you sure? You sound scared shitless. Did someone come in here before me?"

"No. They're in the desk 's second drawer. Matches too."

"Umm…ok. Where is the desk?"

"How do I know? It's really friggin' dark and I can't see shit!" I was now trembling.

"Holy crap, Sandry, are you afraid of the dark?"

"So what if I am? And if you dare make fun of me I'll kill you."

I didn't even hear him approach me, but the next thing I knew he had his arms around me. "Shh, it's ok."

I didn't care that it was Briar holding me right now so I buried my face into his chest. After I had calmed down a little, Briar held me at arm length. "Are you a little better now?"

I nodded, but once again, he couldn't see me, so I answered him aloud.

"Where are these candles?"

I just took his hand in a death grip and dragged him to the desk where I did most of my designs. He crashed into a couple things on the way, accompanied with much cursing etc., but eventually he pulled the candles out and lit them bathing me in wonderful light. I'm actually impressed with Briar – he lit those candles with me clinging to him like a lost puppy. Even now, with the light, I refused to let him go. He was actually kinda handsome in the candlelight, but doesn't everyone look really good in candlelight? His golden-brown skin looked more golden and his green eyes were glimmering. Damn. And I looked like crap in my grey sweats and cami-top. Oh, fate was cruel.

"I have an idea."

I looked at him warily. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, New York hasn't seen the stars in years and now is the perfect time to look for some."

"You gotta be kidding me."

"Nope."

"You're seriously gonna drag me out of my nice, comfortable, _warm_ apartment to look for stars?"

"Why not? It's Valentine's, isn't that what you do?"

"I wouldn't know. I haven't had a Valentine since…oh, I was nineteen."

"For real?"

"Yes."

"Well, in that case, you're my Valentine and you're mine, and we are going to look for stars. C'mon, put on a couple jackets and boots."

"Wait-" But I didn't get to complain anymore because Briar was already dragging me outside my apartment with a candle in hand. He ran us up to the top floor and I was feeling giddy, and I don't know why. I haven't done something so impulsive in a while. This was actually pretty exciting, and I had a large smile on my face.

We finally burst through the door that led to the roof and I inhaled the chilly air. When I let out a breath, it came out in a puff of air. I shivered slightly and I guess Briar saw that because he put his arm around me. Either that, or he was trying to be smooth. The worst part is, is that he was pretty smooth. Damn.

He then brought the candle to his mouth and blew.

"What are you doing?" I started to breathe heavily again, the darkness almost enveloping me.

"Wait, Sandry look!"

I looked to where he was pointing and I lost my breath. Right there, over the expanse of the city that I had grown up in was a grand smattering of brightly lit points in the night sky. As I continued to look, there seemed to be more and more appearing out of the blackness.

"Oh, wow." I whispered. "They're beautiful."

"Yeah."

It was only then did I realise just how close we were, and I started to move away. However, Briar just held me closer. "Um, Briar…"

"Mmm?"

"Isn't this awkward for you?"

"Why would it be?"

"Never mind." I know that I'm blushing now.

"Nah, this isn't awkward for me at all. In all honesty, Sandry, I've been looking for an excuse to hold you like this for the longest time. So indulge me please."

What could I say to that? Instead I just nodded and wrapped my arm around his waist so I could get closer. It just felt _right. _Just like when he tilted my chin up so I was looking at him, it felt right. His lips against mine was right.

Suddenly I didn't care anymore how dark it was outside.

* * *

Bleh, that was a clichéd ending, but I hope you liked it. Happy v-day! 3

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

:]


	16. Let It Out 1

Chiisaku ga mayottemo aruiteku kimi to aruiteku

(Even though I will get a little lost, I'll keep walking, walking with you.)

_Let It Out – _Miho Fukuhara.

* * *

You think you're alone.

You're wrong.

I watch you in school, in class, on the bus. You think you fool everyone with that bad-boy, introverted attitude you have? Besides the glares you shoot anyone that comes within five metres of you, I can see you watching groups of people with a little envy on your face.

You want to be accepted.

I try to approach you, but you keep pushing me away. I wonder if it's because I'm wrong about you, or if you're too scared to talk to someone. So I try again the day after. And the day after that. Eventually, you speak to me. It's small talk at first. _What's your name?_ Briar. _Where do you live?_ None of your business. _I'm Sandry_. I receive a grunt in response. You walk away, but I'm smiling.

This becomes a daily routine. We have English together, but who pays attention in English? Why do we have to learn how to speak our native tongue? Weird. So I turn around and give you a bright smile. You look up at me and roll your green eyes, but I see the edges of your mouth pulling up. You want to smile. _How was your weekend? _Normal.

I cringe. When you say normal, I know that you have a few more bruises marking your body where your step-dad hit you. _I'm sorry. _You shrug. You're used to it, never knowing anything else. But you know it's wrong, that's it's not the norm, but yet you accept it still. My heart grows heavy for you. I give you a really bright smile now. _Well mine just sucked. I lost my favourite lipgloss. _You give me an incredulous look, but I know you must know I'm trying to brighten the atmosphere. So you give me a half-hearted smile in return. _My uncle is out of the house this afternoon. Want to come over? I'll make you dinner. _

You pause your writing. You sure?

I nod. I've never been surer in my life. I want to spend more time with you, but now it's because I enjoy your company, your little quirks and your dry sense of humour instead of trying to discover why you didn't talk to anyone. You give me a smile, something that steals my breath. I've never seen you smile before, and I don't know why. Your smile changes your whole face. I try to hide my reddening face by turning away.

* * *

I'm trying out a new kind of writing, so tell me what you think. It'll be a three part series, so don't worry. I'm not going to leave it here.

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w

please?

;]


	17. Let It Out 2

Chiisaku ga mayottemo aruiteku kimi to aruiteku

(Even though I will get a little lost, I'll keep walking, walking with you.)

_Let It Out – _Miho Fukuhara.

* * *

I open the door for you, and you stop at the doorway. _Come on in. I don't bite. _You don't move for a second more, and then you take a cautious step inside. I laugh at your hesitation. _Are you really that scared of me? _No, I just can't believe you're letting me in. _Why? _You shrug.

I give you a weird look, but I keep walking to the kitchen. _What do you want to eat? _Whatever. _Pasta? _Sure.

I tiptoe to reach the pasta at the top shelf, but lose my balance. I feel myself falling backwards and close my eyes. I know I'm going to fall ungracefully on my ass.

My backwards motion is halted by a pair of arms circling my waist. I open my eyes in surprise, and I see you are close. Very close. Your eyes are wide open, and I think I see a little panic in them. I cannot comprehend how fast you had to move to catch me; you were at the other end of the kitchen when I started to fall. You don't let me go, and I'm surprised that I don't want to move from your arms.

Your head leans in and I can see myself in your eyes. I lean my head back and close my eyes in anticipation and I feel the lightest touch of your lips on mine.

You pull back suddenly, and I stumble.

_What's wrong? _We can't do this.

I shake my head. _Why not?_

You look at me, and there is terror in your eyes. I feel a hole in my chest and I bring my hand up to it, to see if I could feel it, to explore it, find its source. _Is it really so scary to be with me? _My voice betrays my hurt.

You shake your head. It's not that; you don't want to get involved with me.

_Why? I know everything about you already. _

This is different.

Like hell it is.

Tears start to stream down my face. _Get out, _I whisper. _Get out!_

You give me an indecipherable look and reach out to me. Before I could collapse in your arms like I want to, you instead spin on your heel.

You're gone.

I fall to the floor and bow my head. Someone can see me and think I'm praying, but what God would hear me? He didn't answer my prayers in the first place. What makes me think He'll listen this time? So I let the tears fall, unchecked.

* * *

This is a three part series, so don't worry. I'm not going to leave it here.

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w

please?

;]


	18. Let It Out 3

Chiisaku ga mayottemo aruiteku kimi to aruiteku

(Even though I will get a little lost, I'll keep walking, walking with you.)

_Let It Out – _Miho Fukuhara.

* * *

It's the day after. I look for you, but you aren't here. You don't come to school all week long.

I'm angry with you. I'm sad. I want to hit you. I want to hug you. I want to understand what I feel for you. I want to understand what you feel for me.

I want a lot of things.

It's finally Friday, and you didn't come again today. I march over to my car and jump in. I know where you live; you once told it to me. So I drive to your apartment and run up the stairs. I pound on your door, my emotions swirling in confusing patterns.

I'm hopeful.

I'm furious.

I'm anxious.

The door opens, and I open my mouth to say something to you. Then I see your face. I forget my anger, my questions, everything. I reach for the large bruise on your face but you wince and pull away. I glare at you, but keep my hands to myself. _What happened? _

You don't answer but you open the door for me. I walk in and sit on one of the worn couches. Its stuffing is forcing itself out into the open air, reaching beyond the cloth barrier that encased it. We sit in an awkward silence.

_Where's your mom?_ Dunno. _Your step-dad? _Gone. _Forever? _Maybe. Hopefully. I don't know.

You stop, but when you speak again, it's in a rush, as if you want to get it out because you know that you can only say it once: he came in the other night drunk and beat mom. I fought back, but he only beat me more. He grabbed my mom and tried to take her but she tried to get away. He punched her and dragged her out. I chased them, but he hit me again. Next thing I knew, it was morning. So I'm waiting here for mom, just in case she comes back. I hope she comes back. I'm glad you came back.

We look at each other, then look away. I sigh. _Briar, what happened the other day? _

You don't look at me when you answer: I don't know.

_Well, I do. _Really?

Your tone is defensive and belligerent. I shrink away from you but then I look at your face. You look as confused and tortured as I am.

I get up from the couch and walk towards you slowly, like someone would approach a skittish, dangerous animal. Cautiously, I raise my hand to your face. You wince slightly, but you don't move away. I wrap my hand around your neck, the other hand cupping your face. I tiptoe a little and bring my lips slowly to yours. You don't respond at first, but soon you're kissing me back. It's a sweet, tender kiss, undemanding and unrushed. It doesn't last very long, but that small action cemented something between us, something unknown and slightly daunting, but something I definitely want to explore. Our eyes meet and I can see you feel the same way.

I entwine my hand in yours and give it a supportive squeeze. _How about that dinner I promised you? _You smile and I smile back. _I'll wait with you. _What about your uncle? _I'll just tell him that I'm sleeping over at Tris'. You are more important. _

Tears start to fall down your face, and I wipe them away with my finger. _I'm here for you.

* * *

_

What did you think? This is the last installment. As I said, I'm trying something new.

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w

please?

;]


	19. Are you going to kiss me?

"_Are you going to kiss me?"_

"'Are you going to kiss me?' Is she serious?"

"Briar, shush."

"But it's so corny!"

"It's supposed to be romantic…?"

"Sandry, if I was Charlie, I never would have even climbed up that stupid, perfectly placed vine in the first place. I would have been normal and climbed up the stairs. Ha! I'm so glad he fell. Serves him right!"

"Briar, it's a romance movie. Shut it."

"No, it's a crappy, cheesy, romance movie. Why did you bring me here again?"

"Because I bought two tickets and then Berenene cancelled, and Daja and Tris were busy."

"Wow, I'm a pushover. I guess that's what friends are for…"

"Ok, if you were Charlie, what would you have done?"

"I told you, I would have climbed the stairs."

"Then?"

Briar looked at the girl next to him. "I wouldn't have given her a chance to ask if I was going to kiss her or not. I would just do it."

"What do you mean?"

Briar cupped Sandry's face and in the dim light of the cinema, leaned down and lightly brushed his lips against hers. "That's what I would have done."

"You should have done it sooner," whispered Sandry as she leaned in again, capturing Briar's soft lips with hers.

* * *

This came about after seeing 'Letters to Juliet'. My friend and I were chanting "Fall! Fall!" at this part of this movie, and we laughed so hard after he _did _fall that we had to rewind and re-watch the last bit. Charlie made seeing the whole movie bearable ;) haha

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	20. Figment of a Dream

_Honey coloured hair streamed behind her as she ran down the beach. "C'mon Briar!" She shouted, her feet sending up sprays of icy-cold water. "Get in the water or I will make you!"_

That's not right…my name is Brian, I thought.

_Her blue eyes were sparkling with mischief. I refused to move, knowing how cold the water was, but at the same time I couldn't resist chasing her a little. The hem of her rose coloured dress was soaked, and a splattering of water showed on the bodice of her gown. I ran after her, easily catching up with her. I grabbed her around her waist and spun her around in a circle, her surprised giggles making my heart lift. I felt a bit of her power twitch and before I could react, my clothes had turned against me. The sleeves of my tunic controlled my arms so that I released her and then wove themselves into the rest of my tunic, effectively binding me. I glared at her. _

"_Sandry, that's cheating!"  
"No it's not," She retorted, sticking her tongue out. _

_I smirked at her. "In that case…" I stretched my power out, reaching the seaweed in the shallows of the water. Urging it a little with my power so that it grew, I manipulated the long tendrils to wrap themselves around Sandry's thin ankles. I saw her look of surprise as she was pulled onto the sandy ground. I laughed at her expression and, after glaring at me a bit, she laughed too. _

"Bri! Yo, Brian!"

_She released my bonds at the same time I did. We lay in the sand, staring at each other, the former mood of playfulness gone. We were only a few inches away from each other, and something else filled the air. It was a tension, a kind of anticipation. She and I leaned towards each other at the same time, my eyes closing as I expected the soft brush of her lips-_

"Brian! Wake up!"

I shot up with a start, and glowered at my best friend. "Daj', what are you doing in my room?"

Daja shook her head, her braids slapping against her chocolate-coloured face. "You totally forgot."

"Forgot what?" I groaned, flopping back onto my bed. The remainders of my dream lingered in the back of my mind, but I couldn't quite grab a hold of it. All I remembered was honey coloured hair and bight blue eyes.

"The double date we had planned!"  
"You mean the blind date you set me up with so that _your _girlfriend could bring her best friend."

Daja rolled her eyes and, bending to my cluttered floor, threw me a navy blue t-shirt for the jeans I was already wearing. "Just put this on, we are leaving in five."

"Yes mother," I grumbled to her retreating back.

Ten minutes later I was in the backseat of Daja's SUV, a prattling brunette next to me while Daja and Riza chatted in the front. The girl I was paired with was pretty enough, but she really was too vain and high maintenance. Her make-up was impeccably done and she was wearing designer clothing. That, and she was practically throwing herself at me. Did she have no shame? I just had to bear it for the car ride to the movie theatre, and then I'll be free of her. Note to self: never allow Daja to ever set me up on blind dates again. Ever.

We pulled up at the cinema, the girl (I had already forgotten her name…something starting with a 'B' I think) jumped out quickly and walked to the ticket stands. Daja and Riza eagerly followed her, while I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans as I slouched after them. I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings, which was probably why I crashed into someone.

I automatically backed up a couple of steps and mumbled an apology. I heard a small laugh, and my head snapped up as she said, "That's all right."

I knew that laugh. I knew that voice.

Before I could say anything, she turned away from me, quickly following after a slightly plump red-head. Her honey coloured hair bounced as she walked, and when she spun around to look at me again, I saw that her eyes were light blue. She smiled at me and my heart did a little flip. Where did I know her? I vaguely remembered a beach. But, I lived in San Diego. Of course there are beaches. Maybe from my high school? No, I would have remembered her.

Unwittingly I started to follow her. "Hey!" I called out behind her. She turned to face me, and her friend scowled and sighed. "Hey, um, by any chance…is your name Sandry?"

She shared a look with her friend, wariness in her eyes. "Close. It's Sandy. Do I know you?"

At the question, I saw a flicker of recognition. I _did _know her. I grinned at her. "I think I do."

* * *

So, what did you guys think? Sorry it took so long to update…school and all that. Now summer has started, maybe I could update more! Yay! And I also have some ideas for more ;)

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	21. No Regrets

Sandry held back her long hair as it whipped in the wind. She looked at her surroundings, the familiarity of it hitting her with a pang. She shouldn't be so accustomed to this place, yet in a period of a month, she was.

It really was beautiful. Cool green grass stretched across the edge of the bluff, the roaring sea below. In the distance, Sandry could see the city of San Diego and Coronado, and tens of boats littered the expanse of sea in between. She supposed if she were to die, this would be a great place to be buried; looking over a mixture of sea and city.

She turned back around to face the small, white tombstone in front of her. Tears silently ran down her cheeks as she read, for what felt like the hundredth time, the words: _Lt. Briar Moss, 7 July 1985- 19 May 2011. May he always be remembered and loved for dying in the name of his country. _Sandry fell to her knees in front of the grave, the bouquet of flowers in her hand falling to the ground. The roses fell amongst the many others that had been laid there in the past month.

"I never meant to fall in love with a soldier," She whispered, a humourless laugh escaping her throat. "Not after having a father who was a General and being an army brat. But I just had to fall in love with the promising, new Lieutenant." A smile spread across her face. "I don't regret it, though."

She carefully arranged the remaining flowers and pulled out those that had wilted already. As she got up to leave, she whispered, "I will never regret falling in love with you."


	22. Sharing

"Well, I flat out _refuse _to share a bed with him," Stated the taller, dark girl adamantly. Daja turned to the redhead next to her, but Tris was already sharing her head.

"It's bad enough I have to share a room with him." She said, crossing her arms. "My foster mothers almost had aneurisms knowing that I was going on this trip with a guy."

Daja looked surprised. "Even though he's our best friend?"

Tris grinned. "Possibly _because _he is our best friend."

The two girls regarded the pair of beds in front of them. "Well, if we both refuse to share the bed with him, then that leaves…" Daja started. Their grins were identical in their wickedness.

"Oh, this outta push them in the right direction." Tris said with a laugh.

"Push who is what direction?" Came a voice behind them. Daja and Tris spun around to see Sandry struggling to get her bag through the door to their hotel room.

"Come, give it here," growled Briar, coming in behind her. "You're useless."

Sandry blushed scarlet and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, _I'm _useless? Who's car did we use to get here? Who's uncle is paying for most of this trip? Shut your mouth, Moss."

Briar rolled his eyes, but didn't snap back the retort that was poised on his tongue. He was tired from the drive and he was sure Sandry was even more exhausted. His eyes roved over the room, his face paling when he realised the same thing the two other girls had: there were two beds for four people. One of whom was a guy.

Daja took from Sandry's silence and reddening cheeks that she had also became conscious of the predicament.

"So I guess I'll sleep on the floor…" Offered Briar.

"Don't be ridiculous." Pronounced Sandry with a flick of her hair over her shoulder. "We can share the bed. We aren't children."

"That's the problem," Muttered Briar as he moved the bags into the room. Louder, he asked, "Why didn't we get two rooms?"

Daja glanced at him. "Because it is more expensive, idiot."

"It's your fault. All your friends are girls. You couldn't be a normal guy and hang out with guys." Tris retorted, a beat after Daja.

Briar glared at the two of them. "I don't have any guys friends because y'all won't stop hanging around me. Now they think I'm queer."

"We are not having this argument now." Said Daja, walking into the bathroom. "Don't peek!" With a waggle of her fingers, she closed the door behind her.

Briar grunted and sat heavily on his – and Sandry's – bed. Why her, of all people?

xxx

After the whole group had showered, they each settled into their prospective beds. Even though Daja and Tris bickered on a regular basis, they fell asleep fairly easily. It was the other pair who had trouble going to sleep. Each was highly aware of the other's presence, a breath away. They didn't even dare to move an inch.

"Briar?" Sandry's voice was so low that if Briar wasn't practically holding his breath, he wouldn't have heard her.

"Yeah?" His voice was equally as low.

"Oh. Just checking to see if you were still up."

He grunted. "Can't sleep."

A low chuckle. "Me too."

Briar felt Sandry readjust on the bed, and in the dim light, he saw that she had moved on her side. He assumed he was looking at her back until she spoke. "Do you ever think of the future?"

Her nearness affected him in a strange way. He had to resist the urge to stroke her face, pull her close to him- she made him feel breathless and antsy at the same time.

"Sometimes."

She sighed. "Whenever I do, I always see you there. Is that strange?"

Briar also shifted so he could face her. "No. I do too." He could vaguely see her face now. Her blue eyes seemed darker than normal in the night, and they were locked on his. Abandoning thought, he slowly brought his hand up and cupped her face. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked right into his. He found himself moving towards her, and their lips met halfway.

Their kiss was slow, explorative. They didn't want to push too hard but at the same time, they couldn't get enough of the other. When they finally broke apart, their faces held the same amount of wonder and affection. Sandry smiled, and Briar laughed softly.

"I've been wanting to do that for the longest time," He said, nuzzling his face into her hair.

She sighed into his chest. "Me too. Why haven't we before?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, but I know I want to do it again," He uttered softly, with a wicked smile. She just laughed.

"Not now. I'm wiped. May I just stay in your arms tonight?"

His response was wrapping his arms around her.

xxx

When Daja and Tris woke up the next morning, they shared a smile when they saw their friends. Briar had an arm protectively over Sandry, and she was curled into his chest.

"It's about time," grumbled Tris.

* * *

Inspired when I had to share a room with my grandmother and my two aunts. We had two beds, and it made me think…hmm, how would this turn out if Briar and Sandry had to share a bed? *evil grin* Even though this came out a lot cheesier than I had wanted…

* * *

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

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please?

;]


	23. Masquerade

Briar grinned under his mask. Even though it was originally Sandry's idea to have a welcome back Masquerade ball, Briar knew that he had influenced the choice. He must have, with his whole past of being a thief and all. Especially with the mask Sandry made him; it was pure black with a dark green trim and covered half of his face. His clothes also moved silently, and he enjoyed sneaking up on people in his dark outfit. Scaring the crap out of the Duke's guests was the best part.

The gang had recently returned from the clutches of Berenene, and the Duke, in honour of their arrival, wanted to host a ball. It was also to entertain his new wife, and Pasco's dance teacher, Yasmin. She had brought a new life to the Duke of Emelan's household, hosting gay events weekly.

"Boo,"

To say that Briar was startled was an understatement. However, manly pride stopped him from screaming like a girl. Too bad that manly pride didn't stop his body from jerking in surprise.

"So someone can sneak up on the infamous Briar Moss." Giggled a girl's voice behind him.

Briar turned around, a smile on his face. "Yeah, I am just human after all."

He immediately recognised the girl under the light pink mask and Lexa grinned at him charmingly, but he was finished with sleeping with random girls. Even though his nightmares haven't stopped, he didn't want to depend on another person any more to help him get a temporary reprise from them. Also, he wasn't sure a certain adopted sister of his liked that idea…At that thought, he caught Sandry's blue eyes under her dark blue mask from across the room.

_Caught you staring at me, _he teased through their mental link.

She frowned at him. _Or did I catch you staring at me? _

_Got me there. _

"…Briar?"

"Hm, sorry?" He brought his attention back to the small girl in front of him.

She looked slightly crestfallen, but she placed a smile on her face. "Nothing, never mind. I'll see you around?"

Thoroughly confused, he waved as she weaved through the crowd.

"Oh, you're cold."

"Shut up, Sandry."

"You didn't realise that she was asking for a dance, did you?"

"She was?"

Sandy nodded her head, a smirk on her face. "That girl will never get over her infatuation with you."

"What infatuation?" He growled. He had totally zoned on Lexa! He had never done that before. Is something the matter with him?

"Why, the quite-obvious-to-everyone-else-but-you infatuation with you, obviously."

Briar scowled at her. "Impossible."

"Very possible. You know how dashingly handsome you are."

He grinned cockily at her. "You called me handsome."

Briar could see her eyes grow annoyed. "So what? It doesn't mean anything."

Instead of coming up with a witty comeback, Briar instead cocked his head to the side as he listened to the music. It was a slow number, unlike the lively music from before. On impulse, he grabbed the smaller girl's hand and pulled her to the dance floor.

"Briar, what-?"

"Dance with me!" He pulled her close to him as they swayed to the music.

Sandry glowered at him. "I hope you know how awkward this is for me."

He chuckled. "Why?"

"I dislike dancing."

"You danced a lot with Fin and Jak back at Namorn. And I do believ you danced with Shan."

Sandry's eyes were practically spitting fire. "Don't mention their names again."

"What about Jak? He was a good fellow."

Sandry waved her hand in dismissal. "You know who 'they' are, you bleater."

Briar gasped in mock surprise. "Did I just hear what I thought I did from Lady Sandry's mouth?"

"And if you continue like this, you will hear a lot more unladylike things coming from my mouth."

Briar grinned at her, but complied. After regarding Briar, and certain he wasn't going to say anything more, she cautiously lay her head on his chest. He was warm, and she had never realised before now how broad his shoulders had become.

Briar, on the other hand, had always viewed Sandry as his sister. His head-strong, stubborn sister, but sister nonetheless. So he was always pretty blind to her physical development until he held her this close. She was no longer a young teenager, but a woman.

"I think I know what you mean about this being awkward." Coughed Briar as he released her.

However, Sandry just held on to him. "The song's not over."

He grinned down at her. "Are you sure you're holding onto the right guy here?"

"Why not?"

* * *

An idea that was floating around in my mind for a little while. If you don't know who Lexa is, read my other COM fic…she's a little OC I had. Though it really didn't come out as I thought. the ending part was strange for me, though. Meh. Whatever.

Any thoughts? Comments? Criticisms? Like it? Hate it? Love it?

r.e.v.i.e.w.

please?

;]


	24. Alone

"There, there," Sandry patted the babe's back until it burped. It did a happy gurgle and she grinned. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

The baby laughed, jumping in Sandry's arms. He then yawned, stretching his chubby arms towards Sandry. His head lay on her bosom, and he fell asleep quickly.

"You're pretty good with them," a voice behind her said. Sandry was startled, but she didn't jump. Instead, she slowly lowered the babe into his cot and tucked his blue blanket – the only thing that had been with him when he was delivered – around him.

She then turned around to meet his grey-green eyes. He was new to the orphanage, but had already separated himself from the rest of the teenagers there. He refused to talk to anyone, and kept to himself. "Well, I have to be. I'm the eldest here, and Rosethorn and Lark already have a lot on their hands."

He scoffed. "You're not the eldest anymore."

She scowled at him. "Did you come in here and try to make me feel inferior by saying you're older? It doesn't matter. I'm the only one who has been here since I've been ten."

He whistled. "So that's what, seven years? You know you're gonna get kicked out of here next year."

Sandry's jaw clenched, and she shoved past him. "I know. I've already talked to Lark. She said she'll hire me."

Briar followed her out of the room, for which she was thankful. She closed the door quietly. "Is that what you want to do with your life? Watch children like yourself? Orphans?"

She spun on him, anger in her blue eyes. "Yes. Is that a sin? To know what you want to do with your life? What about you? Do you intend to just be by yourself, your whole life?"

He scowled at her and dint answer, stalking away from her. But, she swore she heard him say, "…people around me tend to get hurt."

And then, she remembered. Remembered that Lark told her about him, that the police had found him, protecting his mother's dead body. She was stabbed right in front of him, and died on his lap.

She wanted to shrug it off, saying that he deserved it because he was a jerk, but no-one deserved to see their parents die n front of them. That, Sandry knew all too well. She knew the pain of being alone. So she sighed, and walked after him. He won't be alone, if she could help it.

* * *

Review, please?


	25. Rooftop

Sandry was walking through the hallway, when she saw a light on. She didn't normally go up on the roof unless she couldn't sleep, and tonight was one of those nights. And she was always the only one up past ten in the Orphanage, ever since Daja and Tris moved out.

She frowned, instantly recognising the room. It was Briar's, and she was tempted to walk past it in a huff. No matter how hard she tried, he didn't respond to her friendly comments. He insisted on being alone, and Sandry was so exasperated with him that she was ready to give up on him.

But instead, she lightly knocked on his door and opened it. He was lying in his bed, book in hand, and a frown on his face. She also noticed that he wasn't wearing a t-shirt. She blushed, and looked around the otherwise empty room. Normally, four people would stay in one room, but the Orphanage was empty enough that the older kids could have their own room.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked, his tone impatient.

"Well, I was going to the roof and wondered if you want come and join me. The stars are beautiful tonight."

His face twisted, and she was afraid that he would turn her down again. However, he sighed and put his book down. "Ok, sounds cool."

She looked at him in surprised and he raised an eyebrow. "You're really going to come?"

With a bemused smile, he answered, "So you invited me, but hoped I won't come?"

She shook her head. "No, I just assumed you'd say no, 'cause you haven't been very friendly."

His grey-green eyes looked sad. "My mum and I always used to look at the stars," he said softly. She bit her lip, unsure what to say to that. What could you say, anyways? He then jumped out of his bed, and Sandry immediately turned around…but not before she saw that he was only wearing boxers.

He laughed. "Never seen a guy in his underwear before?" He asked, his tone light. She shook her head, her face ablaze. "Well, you could turn around now. I'm all dressed."

When she spun around, she saw that he was wearing jeans and a deep green tee. He grinned cockily at her, and she glared at him. Spinning on her heel, she led him to the ladder that led to the roof.

"So how did you find this, anyways?" He asked as he followed her up.

She opened the hatch and stepped into the chilly night air. She shivered, and wrapped the blanket that she had draped over her arm around her shoulders. "My friend, Tris, showed it to me. She, Daja and I would come up here sometimes at night. But they're older than I am, so they moved out earlier this year. Daj is an apprentice blacksmith and Tris is doing some teacher training. It's kinda lonely without them," she said in a lower voice.

Briar didn't hear the last bit, and whistled as his head popped out. "Wow. Nice view."

She nodded. You could see the whole city from here. However, the Orphanage was far enough from the city that you could still see the stars at night. She lay on her back, looking up at the sparkling lights in the sky. She heard Briar lower himself next to her and felt him shiver.

"Oh, here you go," she said, extending the blanket to him. He shook his head, but he wrapped his arms around his knees, obviously still cold. She frowned at him. "Don't be stubborn. The blanket can fit the two of us."

He gave her an incredulous look. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

She blushed, but she lifted her chin defiantly. "No, why?"

He rolled his eyes. "Because a normal guy would usually see snuggling under a blanket differently from you do."

"And are you a normal guy?"  
"Mostly, yes."

She _humph_ed, but let the matter lie…until he shivered again. "Oh, stop being stupid and get under here."

This time, he didn't complain. He lay next to her and wrapped the blanket around himself, a sigh of pleasure escaping his lips. "You should have warned me it'd be cold."

"I didn't expect you to say yes," she retorted.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, and Sandry realised what he meant by snuggling under the same blanket. She was extremely aware of his body heat radiating not one inch away from her. She could feel him breathing, as his breaths became longer and longer. And she really wanted to touch him, for some irrational reason.

He gave a light snore, and she stared at his sleeping face. He looked peaceful in sleep, and younger than he really was. The harsh lines on his face were gone, and she saw that without the permanent scowl, he was quite handsome. The breeze ruffled his short hair slightly, and they shivered at the same time.

Sandry felt her eyes get heavy, and soon enough, she also was asleep.

* * *

**If you didn't realise, this is a continuation of the previous chapter "Alone." Should I keep going? I actually quite like this arc. **


	26. Tears

Briar wiggled his nose. The thing tickling it disappeared for a few seconds, but then returned. He wriggled his nose again, unwilling to rise from his comfortable unconsciousness.

He was then aware of his freezing feet, and the sharp thing jutting into his lower back. His moaned softly, opening his eyes. He automatically thought, _five more minutes… _But then he saw the thing that was tickling his nose.

Sandry's brown hair was tussled, and she looked peaceful in sleep. Her head was tucked into his chest, and she was curled up on her side. He looked at himself, and thought wryly, _No wonder my feet are cold- she stole the blanket. _Most of the blanket was swaddled around her, tucked up to her chin so only her face peeked out of it.

The sun began to rise over the horizon, dyeing the sky pink and yellow, fading into blue. Briar didn't want to wake Sandry, but he desperately needed to move. The thing jutting into his side became more pronounced with every moment he lay there, not moving. He shifted slightly, then froze as Sandry mumbled in her sleep. He couldn't make out what she said, but he was certain he heard his name.

He frowned. Why would she be dreaming about him? They barely knew each other, and he tried very hard to spurn all her advances to be friends. Everyone around him just got hurt.

He felt a pang in his heart and he was plunged into a familiar memory- he relived it almost every night.

_He met his mom outside the club she worked at, normal time, normal place. She looked weary, but she still gave him a genuine smile. Even though he was a full head taller than she, it always seemed as if he was looking up at her. She was larger than life, working two jobs so that Briar could continue in school, and eventually go to University. He didn't now his father, and didn't need to. _

_They never spoke much on the walks back home. They didn't need to, really. The noises of the city engulfed them even at the late hour. Laughter, shouting, horns blaring, music drifting through the air…Briar couldn't imagine a life without these noises around him. _

_But it's because of the constant noise that he didn't hear her soft cry. _

_It took him a few seconds to realise she was gone, and a moment of panic overtook him. _She was right next to me!_ He thought wildly. He backtracked, and finally he heard it- the gruff voice of a man. Red overtook his vision and he stormed into the alley. _

_But too late, too late. _

_As he turned the corner, he heard a loud _BANG!_ and saw his mom collapse. He stood, rooted to the spot as a dark liquid seemed to spread around her. He didn't register the man pushing past him, his mom's purse in his hand. He could only see his mom's beautiful grey eyes closing slowly…_

_He rushed to her side, holding the wound tightly, as if by doing that he could keep the blood inside. She gripped his hand and whispered something incoherent. He bent down to hear it again, but her grip on his hand grew weaker and weaker. Drops of moisture fell onto her face, and Briar looked up, puzzled. It wasn't raining. _

_Her hand fell from his, and he looked back down at her. Her grey eyes – which used to sparkle with joy and laughter – now stared lifelessly up into the rainless sky. _

_His scream went unheard under all that infernal noise. _

Another noise brought him into the present. He looked down at another woman, and saw the same drops of wetness on her creamy skin. Her blue eyes were open and showed her worry, and she brought her hand up to his face.

He was surprised when he felt the tears on his face. When had he started crying?

Sandry sat up, her hand never leaving his face. He leaned into it, glad to feel that small bit of comfort. All this time, he had thought that he could shoulder his grief alone. His mom was his one constant in his life…and it seemed as if after her death everything was changing. He moved to an Orphanage outside the city, where the only noises at night was the chirping of crickets. His dreams of what he wanted to do when his mom was alive seemed meaningless now that his mom wouldn't be home, waiting for him.

Sandry gently pulled him close, and he rested his head on her shoulder. She was soft, and her hands stroking his back soothed him. Her voice was a melody to his ears, and he felt his grief subside bit by bit. He didn't need to be alone any more.

It was a while until he pulled away from her, roughly swiping at his eyes. She gave him an understanding smile and he frowned at her. Just because she saw him cry didn't mean that they were now friends.

She looked away from him the, her eyes distant. "I was about ten when my parents died." She gave him a small smile when he froze. He didn't want to hear about this. Crying on her shoulder was one thing, but hearing her story was something totally different. It would mean that they had something to connect them. That they'll become friends. And he wasn't ready for that. "I thought I could handle it alone, but I couldn't. Lark helped me, a lot."

He rolled his eyes. "So? That doesn't mean anything to me."

He saw the anger flash in her eyes. "It means so much more than you could think, _Moss._" She spat out, using his last name. His frown deepened at her angry tone. "Carrying around your grief and guilt is just going to make it worse."

They stared at each other angrily, neither willing to give a quarter. Briar was determined to get through it alone. Sandry was determined to help.

She then shrugged. "You know what? Fine." She stood up and yanked the blanket from him. "Don't think I won't try even harder, now."

Briar glowered at her, but felt a strange emotion as she descended the ladder. Why was he feeling….happy?


	27. Stubborn

Sandry entered the leisure room, saw Briar in the corner and marched towards him. Seeing her approach, Briar began to circumnavigate the room away from her. They received a few strange stares from the kids watching the television as they tried to catch – or avoid – the other. Finally, Sandry stood in the doorway, planted her feet and crossed her arms. Holding Briar in a glare, she announced, "I am not allowing you to leave this room without speaking to me."

By now, they had received everyone's attention. The children were of varying ages from five years old to fifteen, all doing various activities- watching television, reading, playing games or playing video games.

Briar shrugged and sat next to the fifteen-year-old boy Jak. He took the television remote from him and switched the channel. "Fine by me."

A few of the older kids, feeling the tension coming off the two eldest in the Orphanage, immediately left. Sandry stepped aside to let them pass. Briar idly flipped through the channels, and chatter began to fill the awkward silence.

Sandry's glare started to slip off her face as it began to be evident that Briar was not going to move for a while. She sighed and grabbed a cushion, and sat upon it as she also watched the television. People filtered in and out of the room but mostly to watch this battle of wills. Lark even poked her head in, and seeing Sandry sitting guard at the door and Briar playing foosball with Jak, a knowing smile adorned her face.

When she told Rosethorn about it, she had to stop the temperamental woman from marching into the room and forcing the two teenagers to "be reasonable."

"Don't you remember what it was like at that age?" The other woman asked, a calming hand on Rosethorn's arm. "I'm sure you're not that blind to not see what's happening."

"Oh, I see what's happening. But they're being idiots." She growled, sitting on one of the chairs in their room.

Lark gave her a gentle smile. "Aren't we all?"

Sandry's stomach was just beginning to growl when Lark came in, bearing a hot tray of food. She gave the older woman a grateful smile, but frowned when she saw that there was enough food for two. "You don't plan on helping him?" She whined softly. Most of the younger children had already left the room and were upstairs, readying for bed. She and Briar were some of the few left.

Lark smiled brightly. "He's under my care, so yes. But I'm rooting for you," she whispered back.

Briar's head snapped up as the smell of the food wafted to his nose. He immediately gravitated to the tray and thanked Lark profusely for his food. He then went back to where he had been sitting and began to eat.

Sandry sighed as she also began eating the spaghetti. "He's being totally unreasonable." She said, frowning at the head of coarsely cut black hair.

Lark gave her a serious look. "Is he really? Put yourself in his shoes." With that, she got up and walked out. Sandry pondered her words for a few seconds, but blinded at her anger with Briar, couldn't see the older woman's point.

The room became quieter and quieter until all one could hear was the drone of the television on a late night history documentary. Only Briar and Sandry were left in the room, both refusing to leave. But sleep was a hard mistress to bargain with.

While Briar was comfortable on the couch, Sandry refused to move from the doorway. However, this meant that she was really uncomfortable. Used to a bed, she just couldn't seem to get to a comfortable position on the floor, even with the cushion. She thought about pulling a sofa to her, but dismissed the idea. Her eyelids were beginning to droop and the thought of exerting so much energy just to be a little bit more comfy was too much. _Plus_, she thought, _I may be able to stay up if I'm uncomfortable. _

Briar looked over his shoulder. He was tired, and he wanted to sleep in his bed. But the sight of Sandry lying down on the floor, her head propped by the cushion, stopped him. It would be so easy to step over her and escape to his room, but he found he couldn't bring himself to do it. He sighed and got up from the sofa he had been sitting on.

Lifting the sleeping girl gently, he moved her to the sofa. When he laid her down, he heard her mutter something. Her eyes opened for a brief second, showing the bright blue of her eyes before closing again. A smile graced her face as she settled into the couch. When he was sure she was asleep again, he tucked the blanket around her slim frame.

Briar's eyes flicked from the doorway to Sandry. She was really trying to help him. He sat on the reclining chair and watched the sleeping girl, pondering what to do. She was too stubborn to leave him alone (he knew that now) but he also was too afraid to let her get close.

He was roused from his thoughts by hearing her mutter something again. _She talks a lot in her sleep, _he thought.

"…mmmphmm…Briar…"

He froze as he heard his name come from her lips again. What was wrong with her? Did she have something inherently wrong with her so she felt she had to help and obsess over every single emotionally damaged person? It was either that or…Briar refused to consider the other option. Crushing was something thirteen-year-olds did. Sandry couldn't have a crush on him, or she had a strange way of showing it. She was obviously mental.

Her strangeness didn't subtract from her beauty, though. That was the first thing Briar had noticed about her: she had seemed to sparkle with life, or something. There was something about her that shone. It was that hidden quality of hers that made him speak to her, when he had never spoken to anyone else in the Orphanage. She had a way of bringing him out of his self-imposed solitude.

He walked over to the couch and stared down at her. "What is it about you?" He asked softly, making sure she didn't wake up. He crouched down so that his face was in line with hers. "What is it?"

Her eyes fluttered open at that second, a look of pure confusion in her gaze. Powered by an impulse, he brushed his lips across hers quickly. "Just because I'm letting you help me," he said to her shocked face, "doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy." He gave her a smirk and walked out, looking forward to his warm bed.


	28. Angel of Music

"_Like a comet pulled from orbit_

_As it passes a sun_

_Like a stream that meets a boulder_

_Halfway through the wood_

_Who can say if I've been changed for the better?_

_But because I knew you_

_I have been changed for good…" _Sandry sang, her voice trailing off. She closed her eyes and sighed, wishing her father was there to hear her sing. At the same time, she didn't want him to see that she was lowered to a measly seamstress who repaired costumes for the city's opera house.

"Psh, you call that singing?" A sharp voice said behind her.

Flushing with anger and embarrassment, Sandry spun on the stranger. He was leaning against the walls of the alleyway where she was working, hemming the newest dress that Mistress Lexa had ripped in the last performance. Sandry preferred to work there; just out the back door of the theatre and Sandry felt she was in a whole other world. Plus, not many people passed through, so she was able to sew and sing in peace.

Until, of course, this young man stumbled across her resting place.

"What are you talking about?" She retorted. "I'm trying my best. It's not like I'm a professional, or anything."

He huffed and pushed himself off of the wall. His walk was lazy, like a cat's, and his dark hair moved with the slightest wisp of wind. His moss green eyes – the only thing she could see of him, as the rest of his face was wrapped as if he was a ninja or something ridiculous like that – were intense, and trained on her.

"Plus, what are you dressed up as?" She continued, her voice indignant. "It's a bit early for Halloween."

He guffawed. "Better than you, a wanna-be singer."

"I sing for myself, not for anyone else's ears." Sandry shot back. "I know I'm not any good."

At that, the man cocked his head. "If I said that I could train you so that you're better than those fools in there, would you accept?"

Sandry paused in her work, and leveled him in a stern gaze. "Take your sugary promises to some other girl. I'm not going to buy them."

She could hear the smirk in his voice when he answered. "I offered because you're not any other girl."

That gave Sandry pause. She bit her lip. It's true…she has loved music since she could remember. Her father was a famous violinist, and he would play for her whenever he could. When she was a child, she would sing along with him. He would always tell her that his dream for her was to see her on stage…

But that was before he died.

Maybe this could be her one chance to fulfill his dream?

"Are you pulling my leg, or are you serious?" She asked, her tone uncertain.

She saw the triumph glint in his eyes, and she had a sinking feeling. What had she gotten herself in?

"Of course I'm serious. I wouldn't take something like this lightly." He responded.

She took a deep breath and extended a hand. "Fine. It's a deal then."

He gripped her palm with his firmly and shook it. "Then we'll start tomorrow."

"What do you require for payment?" She asked, a feeling of foreboding in her gut.

He winked at her as he walked away. "I'll let you know sometime, but the time for that is not now."

He began to scale the walls, and Sandry began to wonder if he really was a ninja. "Wait!"

She called up to him as he crested the roof. "What's your name?"

"Call me what you wish!" He shouted back. Then he was gone.

-x-

The next day, Sandry was so nervous she couldn't concentrate on her stitches. Infuriated, she almost threw her sewing kit on the floor. She took a deep breath. "Sandry, get a hold of yourself. He'll be here, or he won't. Either way, you're going to remain the assistant seamstress. Nothing to it."

"Well, that's a sad outlook on life," a familiar voice said.

Sandry started and glared at the man from yesterday. He was lounging on the dumpster, and looked as if he was there for a long time. He was dressed the same as he was yesterday; in dark jeans and a vest, with his strange face covering.

Clapping his hands, he vaulted off of the dumpster. "Ready to begin?"  
She groaned, but a feeling of hope lifted her spirits. _Father, _she prayed, _please help me. _

-x-

"No, no, no!" Aom shouted, waving his hands. While that wasn't his name, Sandry had dubbed him so after their first week of practice. It was immediately clear that he was musically skilled, and Sandry had once heard the choir girls speak of an angel of music. She didn't dare call him an angel to his face for two reasons; one, she was much too embarrassed to divulge her secret nickname to him, and second, it would give him an even larger ego. He certainly had the body of an angel.

"What now?" Sandry whined, thumping her fists on her lap. She cringed, looking at the wrinkled silk that lay across her knees and mentally apologized to the fabric.

"It's not, '_like a comet pulled from orBIT', _it's, '_like a comet pulled from Orbit'_." He protested, emphasizing the correct syllables. They had decided to work with the theatre's current production of "Wicked", especially Alfaba's parts. Aom had joked that Sandry would make a great witch.

Sandry huffed and crossed her arms. "It's a minor change of emphasis, and not even that important."

"Are you daft?" He shot back at her. "If you want to make it big, you first have to do it like everyone else. After you're safely in the business, only then could you make your own little changes, kapiche?"

Sandry sighed heavily and glared at him, but she knew what he was talking about. Or, at least, she hoped he did. "Fine. Let's go over it again."

-x-

It was the fifth week of practice, and for the first time, Aom was late. Sandry was beginning to get on edge, worrying over him, when she heard a thump from the entrance of the alleyway. She turned and gasped, rushing towards him.

He was holding his middle, and a deep gash oozed blood from his side. "What happened?" She asked, immediately putting his arm around her and supporting him to the seat she always sat upon. She quickly pushed aside the costumes and her sewing kit, not caring at the moment if it got a little dirty.

He was breathing heavily and groaned when she lowered him into the chair. "Ugh, lucky bastard got in a hit." He mumbled.

Sandry was already at work, cutting away his t-shirt and exposing the wound. She hissed through her teeth when she saw the amount of blood. Quickly inspecting it, she was relieved to discover that it hadn't hit any major organs. "You need stitches. We should take you a hospital," she announced, getting up.

A vise-like grip on her wrist made her look down on Aom. "No," he panted, his chest rising and falling violently. "I can't afford it."

"But-"

He fixed her in a steely gaze. "I said, no. Stitch me up yourself, you have the tools for it."

Sandry bit her lip. "I've never done it before."

He cackled. "You do it every day. Come on."

She sighed and knelt beside him. "Take off your shirt."

"So eager to get me to take off my clothes," he muttered and she blushed. He cupped her face and his eyes looked gentle. "You can do it."

She nodded, determined. She took her needle and white thread, and quickly sterilized the needle. Sewing cloth and sewing human skin were two entirely different things, and Sandry felt faint when her needle first plunged through his skin. However, she persisted. She needed to get this done for Aom's sake.

It took longer than she expected, and when she was finished, she looked up at her patient. Sometime in the process, he had fainted. She shook his limp arm, but received no response. She bit her lip, and looked up at his face covering.

She slowly raised her hand to the dark wrappings that covered his face. Her fingers felt the coarse material of the wrappings, and slipped under it. She hesitated and looked at his unconscious face again. Certain he was out cold, she began to tug at the coverings.

His hand shot up and gripped hers so tightly, she was certain they'd bruise. His green eyes showed the depth of his rage, and he threw her hand away. He stood up quickly and walked away, his chest heaving, before turning back to her. "What were you doing?"  
She was scared, but she'd never admit it to him. She had never seen him so angry before. "Nothing! You always wear that face covering, and I wanted to see what lay underneath, that's all."

"Why would you do that?" He shouted at her.

"Oh, gee, I don't know." She shouted back. "Maybe because we've known each other for over a month and I've never seen your face? Or even know your name? I feel as if I'm trusting a man I could only ever half know."

"That's the way it's meant to be!" He retorted. He ran his hands through his hair and then rubbed his temples. "God, you're infuriating."

Sandry gentled her tone. "Why don't you want me to know who you are?"

"It's safer." He said, his tone also softer.

"For whom?"

He raised his eyes to hers, and she saw how tortured they were. "For me."

Before she could say anything more, he picked up his t-shirt and walked away.

-x-

Sandry didn't hear from his after that for a long time. She feared that he had died, that his wound had gotten infected from her inadequate stitching or he had been hurt worse than she had thought and died from internal bleeding. But one day, when she went out into her alleyway, she saw a note.

_Tryouts are this week. I expect you to take part._

The note both angered her and made her feel happy. She had been practicing in his absence and intended to try out anyways, but the note confirmed his existence. She went to sleep that night with the note clutched in her hand.

-x-

Sandry took a deep breath. It was her turn, and she had been listening to all the contestants before her. While she was confident that she was still better than they, a small feeling of doubt still niggled away at the back of her mind.

They called her name, and she stepped out into the blinding stage lights. Squaring her shoulders, she strode to the centre of the stage.

She could hear Aom's voice in her mind, running over all that she learnt from him. taking a deep breath, Sandry opened her mouth and began to sing.

-x-

She felt as if she staggered off stage, but she knew that she had been standing straight and proud. She felt exhausted and looked forward to her bed. She walked mindlessly around backstage, automatically going to her workstation, when she felt a presence behind her.

"Brava," a voice whispered, dangerously close. His breath tickled the back of her neck, and Sandry felt goosebumps trail up and down her arms. She knew that voice.

She spun around to see someone run around the corner. "Wait!" she called out, running behind him.

She felt as if she was just a step behind him the whole while, but she couldn't catch up to him. In the darkness of the hallways, she couldn't even be sure if it was, indeed, him.

She turned the final corner and was faced with a dead end. She immediately recognized the hallway; it had all the soundproof rooms where the band or performers would practice. Each door had a glass window for someone to look through, and Sandry peered into each room. In the last room she saw a dark silhouette and she opened the door slowly.

She immediately recognized him, even if his back was to her. Unable to contain her glee, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. "I missed you," She muttered.

She felt him remove her arms, and took a step back, hurt. But then he began to turn around. His face was hidden in shadow, but Sandry could see that he didn't have his coverings on his face any longer. It was too dark to make out his facial features.

As if reading her mind, he stepped into the light. His green eyes were trained on her the entire time, measuring her reaction.

Sandry drank in his appearance as if she were parched. His nose was surprisingly straight and thin, sitting atop a pair of perfectly shaped lips. A ragged scar marred his right cheek, but it didn't subtract from his beauty. Sandry stepped towards him and slowly raised her hand to his face, lightly tracing his scar. "So this is what you look like," she whispered. He nodded.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly and buried his face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry I ran away."

She smiled against his hair. "I knew you'd be back."

He cupped her face with his hands and lightly caressed her lips with the pads of his thumbs. "You did well tonight." She nodded and curled her fingers in his hair. She slowly pulled him closer to her and their lips softly touched.

Aom pulled away suddenly. "Wait. You would kiss someone without knowing their name?" He asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine, then. What's your name?"  
"The price for that is a kiss."

She grinned at him and pulled him to her, kissing him deeply. Their breath ragged, Aom broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers. "My name is Briar Moss."

* * *

Lame ending is lame. And I'm an extra lame-o for not updating earlier *hides* I've been strangely uninspired to write any of my fanfictions lately...but I've been trying to fix that :) Hopefully my updates won't be too widely dispersed. And if you feel a lot of time has passed since my last update, I suggest PM-ing me. That'll get me off my lazy ass.

Based loosely off of "The Phantom of the Opera" and the lyrics are from "Wicked". I'm a little bit on a Broadway kick- anyone has some really great Broadway songs/plays to give me?

Review, please? Ignore any typos, I pulled this outta me in an hour.


	29. Santa Baby

Briar was aware of someone in his room as soon as he had been within two feet of his door. He lay in his bed, keeping his breath even, not daring to move except to wrap his fingers around the hilt of this knife. It was only a few inches long, but it was deadly sharp. He had allowed him to enter his room, slowly, slowly, heard the intruder's breaths increase as he saw Briar was still asleep, and just as Briar knew that they were reaching toward him-

He sat up, spun around and pressed the knife's edge against the man's throat right above the jugular. The slightest bit of pressure will break the skin and then the artery. Within minutes he would die. His other hand had grabbed the intruder's hand and twisted it so that the gleaming blade fell to the floor.

Fin gave Briar a toothy grin. "Damn, I thought I had you there," he joked, relaxing.

Brair glared at him. "What do you want? You disturbed my sleep. I came in late from a job, you know." Fin was Briar's least favourite comrade- if you can call him that. In a guild full of assassins, you learnt to not trust one of them as far as you can throw them. Out of all of them, Fin was the most bloodthirsty; when he didn't get a contract for a while, he would go out in the streets and kill any who he wished. And their head couldn't do a damn thing to stop him.

Briar knew that if he collected the others and ganged up against Fin that they could easily kill him. Hell, Briar didn't need those nitwits. He could do it on his own, but killing one of your own meant death for yourself. So if Briar wanted Fin out of his life, it either meant to die or run away, always in exile. A gathering of the other assassins without the head's knowledge might mean treason and death for all involved, and torture for the leader. Briar's survival instinct was too honed for him to throw away his life to get rid of an annoyance. So he dealt with Fin's annoying wake up calls.

"I got a present for the head." Fin replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Briar didn't like that look. Sure, he knew that Christmas was coming up, but the assassin's only religion was their profession. Any interference by religions or higher philosophies got in the way of the job, which could also mean their death.

Death surrounded them, and they welcomed it.

"What idiocy are you spouting now?" Briar snapped. "The head don't need no presents."

Fin cackled and a shiver of fear went down Briar's spine. "Nah, I think the head would really love this present. Come on."

Briar cautiously got up, still dressed in the trousers he had worn yesterday. He threw on a tunic and strapped a blade to the underside of each arm – even in the guild you didn't go unarmed – and then stuck his knife securely under his belt. Only then did he follow Fin to the common room.

The night was still quite dark outside, telling Briar that it was at least 3 a.m. he cursed Fin softly under his breath. The fucker only allowed him two hours sleep.

However, all of that went of his mind when his ears fastened on a low sound. He frowned, trying to place it. It sounded like a girl's whimper, but he couldn't be sure. How was that even possible? Except for the head's concubines, no women were allowed here. If the men wanted the taste of soft flesh, they had to go whoring somewhere else.

But it seemed as if his ears were not wrong.

The girl was bound and gagged, and her previously white nightgown was twisted under the ropes under her. She saw them enter and stopped struggling, glaring at them with her bright blue eyes. Briar admitted that she was a beauty, doubtless the reason why she was here now. Her beauty was her undoing.

"A looker, ain't she? She's the daughter of my target tonight, and I couldn't resist. Plus she ain't have nowhere to go without her daddy, huh?" He said the last bit as he pinched her cheek. She wriggled free of her gag and bit his finger. He howled, surely waking up everyone in the house. "You bitch!" Fin cried, kicking her in her stomach. As he pulled back his leg for another blow, Briar nonchalantly tripped him. Fin fell flat on his back, spewing curses the entire way down.

"Don't you think you should preserve your 'gift'?" Briar asked, a dark aura spreading from hi. It was one thing to tie up a helpless woman. It was an entirely other thing to abuse her when she was helpless.

Dismissing the man, he knelt down next to the girl and gently untied her. Surprisingly, even though she had freed herself of the gag, she remained quiet. Her eyes, on the other hand, were ablaze with things she wanted to say.

"Are you unharmed?" Briar asked as he unwrapped the last bit of rope. In response, the girl slapped across his face, hard. Briar rolled his jaw, trying to not hit her back. "I would take that as a yes." He stood up over her, clearly showing her that he was stronger and in charge, but she continued to glare at him. She only broke eye contact for a second to spit at his feet. His eyebrows raised in response. That was hardly the thing a lady would do.

"Take me home." Her voice was strong, not showing any shred of fear. This woman was getting more interesting by the minute.

Fin stood up behind Briar and sneered down at her. "As if we'd let a wench like you go."

Briar turned and punched Fin in the face. "Shut your trap. The head won't be happy about this, you know that?"  
"I won't be happy about what?" The cool voice came from behind Briar, and a shiver went down his spine. There was a certain fear that filled Briar when he heard that voice; the voice that didn't change when he was happy, sad, or angry. It was always that same tone. Briar turned woodenly around and snapped to attention. The head was an unassuming man with broad shoulders and the evidence of years of fighting clear on his bared arms. It didn't mean that his arms were just muscle, they were also a latticework of scars from the many fights he had gotten to rise to the top. His eyes were dead. Briar doubted that he had felt any real emotion for most of his life. It was rumoured that he had killed his whole family in cold blood just because he can- including his newborn son.

No one knew his real name; he didn't have one. He was just 'the head'.

The head surveyed the girl as if sizing up a piece of meat. "She's too soft." He said, and Fin stiffened beside Briar. If an assassin wanted to get on the good side of the head – 'good side' being used figuratively – all he had to do was bring a woman of the head's liking. He generally liked virgins, young, and beautiful. But they must also have something about them that appealed to him, and except for his inner circle, no one else knew that 'that' was. It was a hit-and-miss situation, but f you missed…well, you generally didn't want to miss. Which was why the head's concubines were chosen by his inner ring.

The head looked up and met Briar and Fin's eyes. "Who brought her?" he sounded bored, but by the way he was still showed how displeased he was.

Saying you brought her put you at the bottom of the social ladder again. It meant you got the worst jobs, had to relinquish your own room, and sometimes even meant taking on the house chores. How long you stayed there was determined by how displeased the head was, and by the looks of it, he was highly displeased. Once Briar saw him kill a man who had thought the head's tastes included young girls, and he was killed on the spot. In a rare show of mercy, he allowed the girl to leave.

Briar's eyes flicked to the girl on the floor. She could escape. The head had nothing to do with her still. Sure, he didn't know what happened to the girls who he didn't approve of, but he was sure he could sneak her out.

Briar stepped forward, knowing Fin wasn't going to admit it. "I did, sir."

The head looked Briar from head to toe. He then flicked his hand, as if bored. "Dispose of her."

A lump formed in Briar's throat. He bowed to the head, his eyes never leaving those cold, dark orbs, and pulled the girl roughly to her feet. "Follow me," he growled.

She nodded meekly, acting the timid mouse. His eyes met Fin's and a smirk was playing around the older man's face. Briar didn't show any emotion.

When he was in the small alleyway he released her hand. "If you continue down here and turn right, you'll eventually come across a main street. Keep your head down, don't respond to anything anyone asks you, and if someone begins to follow you, run like hell." Briar paused, and then handed her one of the knives strapped to his forearm. "Take this. If anyone gets too close, stick 'em. That should stop the rest. But don't show it before you have to. Also-" he shrugged off his tunic and pulled it over her head. "There. That should keep you warm. Don't look back, and don't ever come back."

She was looking at him, thoroughly confused. Briar cursed himself. Surely she wasn't dumb? She had acted appropriately enough in front of the head, but that could have been total intimidation.

"Why? Aren't you supposed to kill me?"

His head snapped up at the word. Her voice was smooth, very feminine and soft. Briar rolled his eyes. "I don't feel like killing some girl. Now go, I'll make sure no one follows you out of here, but I cannot guarantee your safety once you leave this alley."

She nodded, her eyes determined. She turned away from him and began walking but suddenly turned back and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

Briar grunted in response.

Fin tried to follow her, but Briar quietly snuck behind him and in a move practiced by the dozens of times he had done it before, effortlessly dragged his sharpest knife across the man's throat. He felt no remorse killing Fin. Plus, he could easily make it seem as Fin had abandoned the guild.

After dumping Fin's body in the fast-moving river, he began hunting. He was looking for a prostitute, but it took a surprisingly long time for him to find one that looked marginally like the girl he had allowed to escape. Hard, but not impossible.

Why he could kill a relatively innocent girl who was just trying to get by in a hard world and why he couldn't kill the girl he was ordered to was something Briar couldn't understand. But he did it. He stripped the prostitute naked after he killed her, and mutilated her face beyond recognition. Then he cut off her ear as proof for the head.

Grimly satisfied with his night's work, Briar walked back into the shadows of his life.

* * *

This idea was born when reading a book about assassins and listening to 'Santa Baby'. Ugh. Sometimes I wonder where my twisted mind comes from. Excuse the typos.

Sorry for the late late late update! I've been hitting the most obstinate writer's block for a month now. It was so infuriating! On the bright side, it seems to be lifting, at long last! Juts in time for finals *shot*.

Review, puh-leese?


	30. Drowning

Sorry for the late update everyone! But this one is in time for Valentine's day ;) Hope you spend it with that special someone! And if you don't you're more than welcome to join my 'Forever Alone' party.

* * *

Sandry was staring out the window, as she was wont to do when she bored in the car, when she saw it. It was for the briefest of seconds, but unmistakable; a hand emerging from the stormy seas and quickly disappearing.

"Stop the car!" She yelled, already fumbling with her seatbelt. Tris quickly pulled into the "Emergency Only" lane on the side of the PCH and Sandry unlocked her door.

"Where the hell are you going?" She heard Daja yell, but she didn't have time. The rain pattered on her face as she leapt over the median into the soft sand, her feet sinking for a moment. She kicked off her sandals and began tugging off her team t-shirt as she sprinted towards the water, not bothering to think about how many people she was currently flashing her bright purple bra at.

Her dive into the choppy water wasn't the best, but she didn't care. Her head popped up above the water for a second as she took a deep breath, and then she put it under again as she allowed her body go into auto-drive. Her arms made strong, quick strokes to the approximate area where she had seen the hand, only doing a handful of head-up strokes to look out for anything else.

About a hundred metres out, she finally saw evidence of the person she had seen- fingers barely brushing the surface of the water. She increased her speed, hoping she was on time. When she reached the area, she ducked her head under the water and opened her eyes, ignoring the burn of the salt water.

There! She saw his body slowly sinking, bubbles issuing from his mouth in a long stream. She dove and reached for his hand, her fingers gripping onto his wrist. With a grunt that expelled more air than she had wanted, she pulled him to the surface. In the style she was taught when she had been trained as a lifeguard, Sandry got onto her back and put his body on top of hers, his back to her. She began to pull his body to the shore; a long, tedious swim. Doing the drills in the security and calmness of a pool was nothing compared to doing it in the uncertain and uneven waters of the ocean.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to see Daja. Daj nodded to her, and they shared the load. Between the two of them, they were able to get him to the beach faster than Sandry could have on her own.

She was panting by the time they dragged his body onto shore, but that didn't stop her from opening his mouth and placing her lips over his and blowing to expand his lungs. She then pumped on his abdomen for a period of five counts, then repeated. Daja was sitting tensely at the side, Tris a little ways back calling 911.

Finally Sandry was rewarded by a gasp of air and the boy sat up and sputtered. He retched sea water into the sand and lay back down, but he was breathing. Sandry and Daja both give sighs of relief. Only then did Sandry realise how attractive _he_ was, and how naked _she_ was. She blushed and began to cover herself, but too late. The boy locked his grey-green eyes with ehr bright blue ones and Sandry blushed.

"What happened?" His voice was husky from the water he had inhaled, but it only made Sandry's cheeks redden more.

"Well, I saw you drowning and I jumped in to save you," she said, maintaining an even tone.

His eyes drifted closed and a smile drifted onto his face. "Thanks." He then seemed to fall unconscious, and Sandry was left to wonder how he ended up in the water and what his name was.

The ambulance came a few minutes later, its sirens screeching. The girls gladly handed the boy over to them, who was still unconscious.

"We were coming from a water polo tournament in Cal Poly," Sandry was explaining to a policeman, "when I saw him in the water. It was for a second, but I couldn't let it pass."

"Thank you ma'am," the burly officer replied. "You saved his life. Can you stick around for a few more questions?"

Sandry turned her head and looked at Tris, who gave her an irritated glare and shook her head. "We gotta go, or else we'd get into LA super late." The redhead replied.

"Sorry officer, but you heard our driver." Sandry said apologetically.

"That's all right, you've already given us more than enough already. May I get your contact information, just in case?"

"Oh, sure!" Sandry quickly relayed her information to him, and then added, "And please tell the boy that information too. I want to know if he's okay in the end."

The policeman gave her a knowing smile and nodded. "I'll make sure he contacts you when he can."

Sandry blushed, thanked the officer, and rushed to the car as Tris shouted her name for the third time. "Thanks!"

Later that night, Sandry received a text message that made her smile wider than Tris or Daja had ever seen.


	31. Texting

[Unknown]: Hey, thanks for that save back there. You're my guardian angel ;)

Sandry: Do you always get saved by girls and then charm them with lame pick up lines? I don't even know your name.

[Unknown]: Yeah, I make a weekly habit of it. My name's Briar, by the way. And according to a particularly unattractive policeman, yours is Sandry, am I right?

Sandry: Haha, yeah. And I didn't think he was unattractive, he was quite handsome...in a rugged, older man sort of way.

Briar: If you're into those types, I believe I have his number around here...but I gotta warn you, he has a wife. Saw the ring earlier.

Sandry: Well, I'm not, but my friend may be. She's into older guys...but not into the married ones. I prefer the guys I date to be my age.

Briar: Today's your lucky day then! I'm single and your age. How about it?

Sandry: Well I'm in LA and you're in Summerland. I don't do long distance relationships.

Briar: It's just a two hour drive! But I'm not from here, I was just up for the weekend with some friends.

Sandry: And where were those friends earlier?

Briar: *shrug* Last thing I remember was them pushing me off the kayak and into the water.

Sandry: I didn't see anyone around, though...Were they trying to kill you? What is wrong with them?

Briar: Whoa, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm a very capable swimmer, you know. I just got caught into an undertow and pulled to...wherever I was. They're here with me right now, and totally distressed.

Sandry: How distressed?

Briar: Crying at my bedside distressed. They're a bunch of girls.

Sandry: I dunno, I like sensitive guys.

Briar: And I meant girls in the nicest way possible.

Sandry: Because using 'girly' as a way to describe a guy is in no way an insult, right?

Briar: Yes, of course. But we can discuss this further at, say, the Yogolicious on Lincoln Blvd tomorrow night?

Sandy: You live in LA?

Briar: I told you, I only came up for the weekend. I go to school there.

Sandry: Well, i guess some fro-yo won't kill me. At 8?

Briar: Sounds like a plan. See you then!


	32. Warped History

"What are you doing?" Sandry asked, peeking over Briar's shoulder at the holographic screen. She made a face as she saw the title. "History?"

Briar leaned back on his chair and rubbed his temples. "Yeah, I have an exam tomorrow."

Sandry pulled the nearest chair and sat on it, the hoverchair bouncing as it adjusted to her weight. "Which history are you doing right now? I've already moved to the 21st century. With all the vampires and werewolves. Ugh, I really hated that bit with the 'vegetarian' vampires, but reading about the wizards was downright fascinating."

Briar wrinkled his nose. "That'll be the tales of the Volturi and Lord Voldermort?"

Sandry nodded her head. "Yeah, they happened around the same time apparently. I'm looking forward to studying the 22nd century. I heard that there were games where kids had to fight against eleven others for entertainment and someone named the Mockingjay brought the whole system down."

"Ah, I cannot wait to get to those times. But I'm still stuck with the Middle Ages. Did the fight for the Seven Kingdoms happen before or after Aragorn became King?"

Sandry tilted her head back, her blue gaze searching the endless sky. Briar always had a tendency to leave his ceiling open so he may see the stars. Honestly, Sandry liked hers closed. All they saw were stars on their long, long trip to New Earth.

"I think that came after Aragorn and Arwen began ruling Gondor. Yeah, because Gandalf had defeated the last dragon, right? And Daenerys brought the dragons back."

"And Gandalf is the descendent of Merlin, right?"

Sandry laughed. "I don't remember all of that! I'm really bad with descendents and stuff. Though I think Aragorn's ancestor was Arthur."

Briar shook his head. "No, Arthur and Guinevere didn't have any children, I don't think. I think it was only Mordred, who was Morgana's son."

Sandry clapped her hands together. "Right! And Arthur was the father. Jeez, they're just as nasty as Jamie and Cersei."

Briar rolled his eyes. "Arthur didn't know, or he was bewitched…it's not really clear. Jamie and Cersei _knew _what they were doing. Anyways, I don't want to talk about it any more. Tell me about your history, it must be a lot more interesting than mine."

Sandry made a face. "Ugh, no. Last week we were trying to pinpoint when Sherlock Holmes really lived, because there are conflicting reports. There is written evidence of him in the early twentieth century, but then a hundred years later, he's there again as a consulting detective, 'the only one in London,' he claims."

Briar gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there is a series that follows him, sort of like those CSI shows and Law and Order."

"Ah. So the second one was around the time of the vampires and wizards? Maybe he was Nephylim."

"Like Jace and Will? Nah, they didn't live forever, remember? They'd always be fighting the Underworlders, I think they're called. With Buffy." She began to laugh. "Actually, some say that Buffy killed this Edward guy. He was some sappy vampire who fell in love with an emotionless human, I swear. I much prefer the love story between Kylar and Elene. Now, that was a romantic story, even though I felt sorry for Vic at the end."

"Wait, I just learnt about that! That happened after the war for the Seven Kingdoms, right?"

Sandry chuckled. "I think so! I'm not really sure. It may have been around the time of Columbus, for all we know."

Briar sighed and rubbed his temples again. "What I'd give for the Doctor to tell us what really happened. Or, better yet, show us."

Sandry took his hand and smiled at him. "And we could be the new Rory and Amy!"

He grinned and kissed her knuckles. "Yup, but you better not fall in love with him."

She giggled. "How could I, when I have you?"

* * *

If you could name the different references to other works of fiction I made here, I'd give you a cookie :)

This was inspired during my British Literature class. We were talking about the Odyssey and the Iliad and my teacher said, "as Homer claims…" which made me think, if we all take the Trojan war to have really happened even though there seems to be no other references to it in history, who's to say it really happened? Maybe it was all a story Homer made up and that we take for history now because we have no other evidence. And then I thought, what if in the future, people thought our current works of fiction were fact?

So I got this crazy idea, and I'm wondering if you wanna help. I wanna do some research on teenagers today and the image they have of themselves. It's mostly for personal use, and all you'd have to do is probably fill out a survey. It'll probably be called "Growing up in a society that hates itself" and delve into teen self-consciousness, the need to look good, and so on. Some questions I may ask include: "do you look in a mirror and feel satisfied with what you see? Do you push yourself to do crazy diets and exercise so you may have an 'ideal' body?" and such. If you're interested, email me at britsmc13(at). You have to be between the ages of 14-20, and can be either male or female, I don't care.


	33. Time Travellers

"Does everyone have their watches?" Briar asked, his 'stern face' on.

Tris rolled her eyes. "Of course we do. Now can we get this over and done with already? I would really like to get going. Ancient Rome awaits! Oh, the books I can find in Alexandria!"

Briar looked at the other two and they shrugged. They were all dressed for the appropriate period; the girls in their white togas and the boys in the garb of a Roman soldier. He knew it could possibly get them in a lot of trouble, but it was their first time time-travelling and he really wanted to go all out. He opened his mouth, about to ask _again _if they have everything when Sandry took his hand and grinned up at him. "We're all good, you know."

He sighed and lowered his voice so Tris and Jac wouldn't hear. "I know, but these are my uncle's watches. If anything goes wrong, he'll freak. You know, top secret military technology and such."

Sandry giggled. "It's not top-secret anymore! They're going to start selling the watches for everyone to use in a few months. What's wrong with test driving it a bit?" She added with a wink.

The watches weren't actually watches; they were clocks, yes, but they hung around the neck so it could be hidden under clothes. All one had to do was set the right time period he or she wanted to visit, squeeze the clock, and voila! Time travel achieved. After the invention of the cell phone, the use of watches gradually declined until in the 22nd century, they were obsolete. So, for kids of the 23rd century, these clocks _were _watches, just not the ones us from the 21st century would imagine.

Convinced by his girlfriend, Briar nodded and took a deep breath. He then grinned mischievously at the other two and said, "So, who's ready to time travel?"

They pinched the watches and felt a tugging sensation from the pit of their stomach, and suddenly, they were there. Not like in a hologram program where you can see a Roman market, but _there_; they could hear and smell and taste Rome in the height of its power, before the gladiator matches, before it began to crumble from the inside.

"Holy shit," Jac drawled it out so it sounded more like "Hooooolieeeee shiiiit", but the others were having the same reaction.

"Oh, translators are on, right?" Tris asked, tucking her spectacles into her toga. Glasses weren't invented for a few centuries more, and she didn't want the incessant questions about them- she already got more than enough from people from her own time; she could have had her eyes fixed by laser, but she was obstinate and liked wearing the old-fashioned glasses. She also didn't want to alter history by introducing a blatant aberration in this time period.

Everyone attached a small beaded earring to their right ear, and suddenly what had previously been unintelligible Latin was now English. The translators worked both ways, translating what they heard and what they said.

Satisfied, Tris then took Jac's hand and dragged him in the direction of the library. The watches had done its work, transporting to them to Alexandria, Egypt, under Roman rule. And of course Tris would want to coop herself up in a _library._ Sandry laughed and took Briar's hand, and began strolling through the market. Gold jewellery to wooden flasks to rugs were being sold, the merchants hackling prices at them as they passed by. They say a pair of older men in a heated discussion about the true state of one's soul and whether rebirth was possible, a group of younger men watching on attentively.

"As far as third-year anniversaries go, this isn't bad," Sandry remarked. Briar looked at her incredulously and saw the grin she wore.

He nudged her with his shoulder and grinned back. "Yeah, I really tries to do something different."

"Well, I think this is absolutely brilliant," She replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. But before their lips could meet, they were interrupted by the sound of Jac's frantic voice.

"Briar, Sandry! Get out of here!" Sandry's eyes widened as she saw that he was bleeding profusely from his arm and there was a gash above his eye.

They ran towards him and his panic seemed to have increased. "No!" He yelled. "Go back home! Now! Briar, behind you!"

Briar barely turned around in time to see a soldier descending upon him, his naked sword in his hand. He pushed Sandry into Jac's arms with the single commandment, "Go," and trusted his best friend to do what was needed.

The soldier bearing down on him hardly batted an eye when Jac and Sandry disappeared into thin air, which led Briar to believe that they were royally screwed. He had a split second of panic when he thought of Tris, but he knew her survival instincts were too strong for her to just have died…she must have already beamed back to their own time.

Briar always bragged that he was the best fighter, and it was true. Except for Daja, no one else in his uncle's Academy could beat him. So when the time agent swung his sword, Briar already knew he was going to win. The man was coming towards him with the impression that Briar was an untrained kid like Jac, and didn't know he was going against the top student in the Royal Military Academy. Judging by his form, Briar guessed that this guy was an average fighter at best. So he made little time of him.

It was the other three that gave him a bit more of a challenge.

As soon as he cleared his way through the panicking market, he beamed back to his own time. He needed to check up on Sandry.

When he arrived in the room they had stood a few hours earlier, excited with the prospect of what they were about to do, Briar saw the polar opposite: Sandry was curled on the floor, crying silently, and Jac was just staring ahead listlessly. They hadn't even seen to his wounds.

"Where's Tris?" Briar asked immediately, even though he had an inkling. He just didn't want to believe it. "Jac, what happened?"

Sandry hiccupped but rubbed her eyes furiously and choked out, "I'll get the first aid bot."

When Jac still wasn't forthcoming, Briar turned him around roughly. "Tell me."

The younger boy couldn't meet his eyes, and his tone was dead, drained of emotion. "Well, we were going to the library as she had wanted, when some Roman soldier grabbed me by the shoulder and demanded to know what I was doing here. So I told him I was off duty and escorting my wife to the library, but he pulled his sword on me. 'No,' he said, 'I meant in this time period!'" Briar's heart sank and everything made a little bit more sense.

His uncle's Military Academy was designed to train assassins, but not the normal, run-of-the-mill assassins. Assassins to go back in time to give due justice to people who have gone unpunished in their life. Hitler didn't just disappear; they _made_ him disappear. So obviously there would be a couple of his uncle's people in every time period- why hadn't he thought of it before? God, he just put all of them in danger.

"And Tris?" He managed.

Jac shook his head. "I told her to run, that I'll hold him off, but she didn't have her specs on…and people were panicking, running around…and he had a partner."

Briar hung his head, the consequences of what he had _done _sinking in. how could he ever forgive himself? How could Jac ever forgive him? Sandry?

He clapped Jac on the soldier, and just said in a thick voice, "It's okay man. It's my fault, not yours. And…thanks for getting Sandry outta there."

Jac nodded. "Anytime man. You're my best friend."

"Too bad I couldn't live up to it."

* * *

I literally had a dream about this, I just replaced the people from my dream as the people here. It had a different ending, but a person did die. Sorry.


End file.
